
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap.i!^)Copyriglit No. 

Shelfj^&$5j Yovl 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



















































































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* 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO 


BRAIN AND BRAWN SERIES. 


By William Drysdale. 
Illustrations by Charles Copeland. 

THE YOUNG REPORTER. A Story of Printing 
House Square. 300 pages. With five full-page 
Illustrations. Cloth. i2mo. $1.50. 

THE FAST MAIL. The Story of a Train Boy. ’ 

330 pages. With five full-page Illustrations. 
Cloth. i2mo. $1.50. 

THE BEACH PATROL. A Story of the Life- 

Saving Service. 318 pages. With five full-page 

Illustrations. Cloth. i2mo. $1.50. 

THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. A Story of the 
Merchant Marine. 352 pages. With five full- 
page Illustrations. Cloth. i2mo. $1.50. 


*.** Other volumes in preparation. 

































‘“why, this is NO WHARF-RAT, OFFICER.”' 









THE 


Young Supercargo 

A Story of the Merchant Marine 


7 

WILLIAM DRYSDALE 


Author of “ The Young Reporter" “ The Fast Mail',' 
“ The Beach Patrol',' etc., etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

CHARLES COPELAND 



BOSTON AND CHICAGO 
W. A. WILDE & COMPANY 



r'Z-’l . 


\ 26 ! 6 

Copyright, 1898, 

By W. A. Wilde & Company. 
All rights reserved. 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 



TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 

-°Co 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER 

I. 

Kit Silburn’s Start in Life . 

# 

# 

# 

PAGE 

9 

II. 

A Voyage to Yucatan .... 

. 



26 

III. 

A Norther on the Gulf .... 




44 

IV. 

Kit’s Connecticut Home .... 




61 

V. 

A Burglar in the Cabin 




78 

VI. 

The Strange Case of John Doe . 




97 

VII. 

Kit becomes a Supercargo 




109 

VIII. 

News from the Wrecked Schooner 




129 

IX. 

Kit inspects London .... 




149 

X. 

A Letter from the State Department 




168 

XI. 

A Voyage to Marseilles 




186 

XII. 

Imprisoned in the Castle D’If 




203 

XIII. 

A Visit to Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde . 




221 

XIV. 

The Mysterious Stranger from Rome . 




237 

XV. 

News from New Zealand 




256 

XVI. 

Kit leaves the “North Cape” 




272 

XVII. 

Overboard in the Pitch Lake 




287 

• XVIII. 

A Voyage to Bermuda .... 




306 

XIX. 

Kit finds his Father .... 





XX. 

Love’s Young Dream in Barbadoes 


_ 


340 


5 









ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

‘ Why, this is no wharf-rat, officer ’ ” . Frontispiece 14 


‘ You are young for a supercargo, Senor ’ ” . . .48 

‘ Can you take me to No. 32 Fenchurch Street ? ’ ” . 136 

‘Here — is the hole he cut through into the priest’s 
cell 9 » 211 

They had a beautiful view of the Mediterranean ” . 240 










THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


CHAPTER I. 

KIT SILBURN’s START IN LIFE. 

BIG black steamship lay beside the wharf in 



front of Martin’s Stores, in Brooklyn. The 
cold November night was so dark that from the 
brick warehouse, a hundred feet away, hardly any- 
thing could be seen of her but the lantern that 
swung in her rigging, a faint light that shone 
through her cabin portholes, and occasionally one 
of her tall top-masts standing out against the pale 
moon that tried with little success to show itself be- 
tween the scudding clouds. It was bitterly cold, for 
November ; and a stiff wind from the northeast was 
driving the black clouds seaward at the rate of thirty 
or forty miles an hour. 

The steamer was the North Cajie, arrived the week 
before from Sisal, in Yucatan, with a cargo of 
hemp in bales. Though everything was dark and 
quiet about her on that wintry night, evidences of 


9 


10 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


hard work in unloading lay all around. The bales 
had been taken out of her hold faster than the ware- 
housemen could trundle them into the building, and 
the hundred feet of space between wharf and ware- 
house was littered with them. Some were piled up 
in tiers, and others lay scattered about in confusion. 

That open space between the warehouse and the 
harbor was well sheltered from the cutting wind ; 
and patrolman McSweeny, of the Brooklyn police, 
with ears and fingers tingling found it a warm cor- 
ner, and made more frequent visits to it than his 
duty really required. If he had gone into one of the 
neighboring coffee-houses to warm himself, he might 
have been caught by the roundsman and fined ; but 
in going through the brick archway under the build- 
ing and prowling among the goods on the wharf in 
search of tramps or thieves he was strictly obeying 
orders. So on the cold November night he paid par- 
ticular attention to the wharf of Martin’s Stores, and 
visited it so often that no burglar in the neighbor- 
hood would have had the least chance. 

Patrolman McSweeny had been a Brooklyn police- 
man long enough to understand all the favorite 
police ways of stirring out homeless tramps who are 
so desperately wicked as to go to sleep in the warm- 
est corner they can find. Among such goods as 
bales of hemp, for instance, he took his long night- 
club and jabbed it into all the dark spaces that were 
wide enough for a boy or man to squeeze into. 
That way, he found, was certain to produce results, 


KIT SILB URN'S START IN LIFE. 


1 1 


if anybody was there. Either the soft feeling at the 
end of the club told him that he had found a victim, 
or the vigor with which he poked it made the victim 
cry out with pain. 

For a policeman weighing nearly two hundred 
pounds, and armed with a big club and a revolver, 
patrolman McS weeny, it must be admitted, made his 
rounds among the bales with great caution. The 
ordinary tramp is a mere bag of dirt for the aver- 
age policeman to prod and cuff and shake as he 
likes ; but about ten days before Mr. McS weeny had 
stirred up two tramps on that same wharf who had 
more muscle than most of their clan, and in their 
anger they had turned upon him and thrown him 
overboard. So he felt that his dignity needed a 
little polishing up, and he was ready to polish it 
up on the next tramp he caught. 

And tramps were not his only victims along the 
wharves. Sometimes he came across a boy, — a 
frowsy, ragged, shivering, homeless boy; and that 
always gave him great delight, for a boy, unless he 
is a big one, is not as troublesome to handle as a 
hungry and desperate man. Some policemen have 
big hearts, and would rather buy a cup of coffee and 
a roll for a hungry boy than take him to the station 
house and lock him up ; but patrolman McSweeny 
was not of that kind. He was trying to make a 
record on “ the foorce,” and every arrest added to his 
laurels. 

It was about eleven o’clock when the patrolman 


12 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


made his fourth trip that evening among the hemp 
bales. Never very good-natured, he was particularly 
cross that night. Something at the station had 
annoyed him ; and with his aching fingers and one 
or two draughts of a stronger beverage than coffee, 
he was rather a dangerous person to be trusted at 
large with a club and a revolver and the authority 
of law. His next victim on the wharf of Martin’s 
Stores was pretty sure to have an unpleasant time. 

He went from pile to pile of the bales, poking his 
club viciously into every dark nook and corner, 
always ready for a sudden attack. And he had not 
gone far before he poked something soft, lying 
between two bales, and heard a voice cry out, in 
startled but still sleepy tones : — 

“ Hey ! who’s there ? ” 

The voice was a relief to him, for it was the voice 
of a boy. 

“ Git up here, ye young tliafe, till I show ye who 
it is. Will ye come out or shall I fan yer carcase 
wid me club ? ” 

In answer to this gentle summons a boy’s head 
and shoulders appeared above the bales, and the big 
policeman seized the section of cpat collar that was 
visible and snatched the rest of the boy out with a 
jerk. 

“ Stop that ! Let go of me ! ” said the boy. 

Such resistance as that almost took the police- 
man’s breath away. He was accustomed to having 
boys beg him to let them off, and promise to go 


KIT SILB URN'S START IN LIFE. 


3 


home, or go to work, or almost anything else, to get 
out of his clutches. But here was a boy who de- 
manded his liberty instead of begging for it. In 
such a case it would have made no difference, prob- 
ably, even if it had been light enough for him to see 
that instead of an ordinary vagabond or river thief 
this boy was clean and well dressed. 

“ Lit go av ye, then, is it ! ” he repeated, giving 
his prisoner another shake ; “ it’s in the cells I’ll 
lit go av ye, an’ not before, ye young thafe. Yer 
caught in de act, an I’ll run yer in.” 

“ 1 am no thief,” said the boy, “ and you have no 
business to poke me with your club or shake me. 
If you want to arrest me, I will go with you peace- 
ably ; but I have .done nothing to be arrested for.” 

“ Done nothin’ ! ” the policeman exclaimed, letting 
go of the boy’s collar and taking him by the sleeve ; 
“ didn’t I ketch ye stealin’ ? ” 

“ What was I stealing?” the boy asked. 

“ Hemp, av coorse,” said the officer. 

Indignant as he was, the boy could hardly help 
laughing at the idea of his stealing five hundred 
pound bales of hemp. 

“ I was sleeping there,” the boy answered, “ be- 
cause I had nowhere else to sleep.” 

“ Thin I’ll give yer a safe place ter slape ! ” the 
policeman declared. “You come wid me ; ” and he 
started toward the archway, still holding his prisoner 
by the sleeve. 

They were just about to turn from the outer end 


14 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


of the arch into the almost deserted street when they 
nearly ran into a man who came along the sidewalk 
at a swinging gait and turned short about to enter 
the dark tunnel. 

“Hello, officer; what’s this?” said the man, 
stopping to look at the young prisoner under the 
gas lamp. 

“ Good avenin’ to you, Captain Griffith,” the 
policeman answered, in a very different tone from 
the one he had used in speaking to the boy. “ It’s 
one of them loafin’ wharf rats I’ve caught among 
your bales of hemp, sir. But I’ll put him where he 
won’t be sn’akin’ around the wharves for one while, 
sure.” 

“ Why, this is no wharf rat, officer,” the newcomer 
said, taking the boy by the shoulder and turning him 
around under the lamp to have a better view of him. 
“ He looks like a respectable boy. What were you 
doing on the wharf, my boy ? ” 

“ I went there to sleep between two of the bales, 
sir,” the boy replied, “ because I had nowhere else 
to go.” 

“Well, that’s no crime,” said the man; “we all 
have to sleep somewhere, I suppose. I think I 
wouldn’t lock him up just for that, officer. He’s a 
decent-looking boy, and I can give him a place to 
sleep aboard the ship. It’s no wonder a youngster 
hunts a warm place on such a night as this.” 

“ Af ye think best, Captain,” the policeman 
readily answered, releasing his hold on the boy’s 


KIT SI LB URN'S START IN LIFE. I 5 

arm. “ It’s in luck ye are, bye, that Captain 
Griffith of the North Cape put in a good word for 
ye, or ye’d a been in a cell by this toime. Then I 
lave the bye with you, Cap’n.” 

“Very good,” said the Captain. “Good night, 
officer ; you’ll have cold work to-night. Come 
along, my boy.” 

The next minute the boy was retracing his steps 
through the tunnel, no longer a prisoner, but sure of 
a warm place to pass the night. He had no time to 
wonder why it was that the captain of a freight 
steamer had so much influence with the Brooklyn 
police ; and no matter how much he had wondered 
he could hardly have guessed the truth, that every 
time the North Cape lay at Martin’s Stores police- 
man McSweeny received a five-dollar tip for keeping 
extra watch over her at night. The big patrolman 
was too shrewd not to oblige his patron whenever he 
could. 

Captain Griffith led the way up an inclined gang- 
way to a lower part of the deck, then up an iron 
ladder to a higher deck amidships, then down a com- 
panionway to the snug little cabin of the North Cape , 
where he turned up the big cabin lamp that had been 
burning dimly. That done, he threw oh’ his overcoat, 
sat down in a revolving-chair at the head of the 
cabin table, and looked at the boy for several min- 
utes as if he intended to look right through him, 
clothes and all. 

What he saw standing by the cabin table, hat in 


1 6 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

hand, was a manly-looking boy of about sixteen or 
seventeen, perhaps a little large for his age, strong 
of build, with a good honest face and bright bluish- 
gray eyes, and wavy dark brown hair, and hands and 
face bronzed by the sun. 

“ No place to sleep, eh ? ” the Captain asked, at 
length. 

“ No, sir,” said the boy. 

“ What are you doing in Brooklyn without a place 
to sleep ? ” the Captain went on. 

“I came to New York to look for work, sir,” 
the boy replied. “ This afternoon I answered an 
advertisement in Brooklyn, but did not get the 
place.” 

“ Where do you live ? ” the Captain asked. 

“ In Huntington, Connecticut, sir,” the boy replied. 

“ What’s your name ? ” 

“ Christopher Silburn, sir ; they call me Kit.” 

“And how did you happen to come to New York 
to look for work without any money ? ” the Captain 
continued. 

“ I had some money when I came, sir,” Kit an- 
swered, “ but I have been here for three days, and it 
is nearly all gone. What little is left I am saving to 
buy food with.” 

“ Have you no friends ? ” the Captain asked, look- 
ing at Kit’s clothes, which though evidently not of 
city make, were clean and whole. 

“I have a mother and sister, sir,” he answered, 
“ and it is on their account that I have come to the 


Kir SI LB URN'S START IN LIFE. \J 

city, for they need what I can earn. My father is 
dead — at least, I am afraid he is.” 

“ Afraid he is ! ” the Captain repeated ; “ don’t you 
know whether he is dead or not ? ” 

“ Not for certain, sir,” Kit replied. “ He was first 
mate of the schooner Floiver City , which sailed from 
Bridgeport for New Orleans with machinery nearly a 
year ago. She was sighted by a steamer off Hatteras, 
but she has never been heard from since, nor any of 
her crew. She was given up long ago, and there is 
hardly any hope.” 

“ Lost at sea ! ” the Captain said thoughtfully ; 
and it was evident that from that moment he took 
a greater interest in the boy he had rescued. u The 
old story, I suppose. No money ; family at home ; 
wife and children left to starve.” 

“Not quite as bad as that, sir,” Kit answered, 
“ but very nearly. My father left us a little house 
in Huntington, nearly all paid for, and my mother 
earns some money by sewing. It is a hard pull ; but 
if I can find something to do, it will make things a 
little easier.” 

“ Well, Mr. Kit Silburn, of Huntington,” the Cap- 
tain said, after another long look at him, “ you tell a 
very straight story. I thought out in the street that 
you looked like an honest boy ; that’s the reason I got 
you away from the policeman. But I don’t judge 
boys by their faces ; some of the best faces are owned 
by the biggest rogues. I have a sure way of my own 
of finding out whether a boy is likely to steal my 


1 8 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

spoons and cushions. I judge a bank by what it has 
in its safes, and a boy by what he has in his pockets. 
Empty out your pockets here on the table, till I see 
what you carry.” 

Kit was a little surprised at this request, which was 
delivered more like an order on deck ; but he obeyed 
promptly. He began with the trousers pocket on the 
right-hand side, and laid out an old knife, a key-ring 
without any keys on it, and a small foot rule. Then 
from the left-hand pocket he took a well-worn pocket- 
book. 

“ What’s in the purse ? ” the Captain asked. 

Instead of replying in words, Kit opened it and 
held it upside down over the table, and there rolled 
out a half-dollar, a bright quarter, a five-cent piece, 
and two pennies. 

“ That your whole stock ? ” the Captain asked. 

“ Yes, sir, that is all the money I have left,” Kit 
answered. Then he began on his vest. From the 
upper pocket on the left-hand side he took a tooth- 
brush, and a pocket comb fastened to the back of a 
small mirror. In a lower pocket, on one side, he had 
four collar buttons ; and on the other side a card with 
his name and home address written upon it, prepared 
by his mother, as he explained, in case anything 
should happen to him. 

Then he began to empty the pockets of his coat. 
From the breast pocket he took his handkerchief, and 
two clean handkerchiefs, folded, that were beneath it. 

From one of the lower pockets he took a morning 


KIT SILB URN'S START IN LIFE. 


19 


newspaper, with several of the advertisements marked 
with pencil. Then he put his hand up to the inside 
breast pocket, but paused. 

“ Well, go on,” said the Captain. 

With a little hesitation Kit took from the pocket 
two clean collars, folded in the middle, and laid them 
on the table. Then a little pocket testament with 
gilt edges. Then a letter that had been opened, 
addressed to “ Mr. Christopher Silburn, General Post 
Office, New York.” 

“ That’s all, sir,” he said. 

“ Where do you carry your matches ? ” the Captain 
asked. 

“ I don’t carry any matches, sir,” Kit answered. 

“ Nor cigarettes ? ” 

“ No, sir, I never smoke.” 

The Captain picked up the testament and opened 
it at the fly-leaf and read, written in a neat womanly 
hand, “ Christopher Silburn, from Mother. ‘ The 
Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.’ ” 

“Now, my boy,” the Captain continued, “I see 
you have a letter there. Letters always tell their 
own story. If you want to tell me more about 
yourself, you can read that letter to me. But you 
need not do it unless you choose.” 

“ I am quite willing to read it, sir,” Kit replied, 
taking up the letter. “ It is from my sister, with a 
few lines added by my mother.” 

He took it from the envelope and stepped up 
closer to the light. The body of the letter was in a 


20 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


scrawly, girlish hand, and the postscript was written 
evidently by the same hand that wrote the inscription 
in the testament. 

My dear Kit [he read] : We are so worried about you for 
fear something will happen to you in that big city. Mamma 
says it is more than fifty times as big as Bridgeport, and I am 
■always a little afraid when I go there. I cried half the night 
last night, and I know Mamma was crying for you in the even- 
ing, though she didn’t think that I saw her. Dear old Turk 
was so quiet all day, I know he missed you, too. 

I do hope you will find some situation you like, and get a 
good start. But if you don’t find one, we want you to come 
home, Kit ; Mamma says so. 

I bought stamps with one of my dollars to-day and send 
them to you in this, for fear you may run out of money. If 
you don’t get anything to do, send me a postal card, and I will 
send you the other one too, so you can come home in the boat. 
I do wish you were here this evening. 

Your loving sister, 

Genevieve. 


Then he read the postscript : — 

My darling Boy : Sister has written for me, as my eyes 
ache in the evening. We hope to hear from you by to-morrow. 
Be sure we both miss you very much. God bless you, my boy, 
and take care of you. Remember what I told you before you 
started. 

Mother. 

“And you have spent your sister’s stamps, I sup- 
pose ? ” the Captain asked, when Kit, having finished, 
refolded the letter. 

“ No, sir, I was robbed of them,” he replied. “ I 


KIT SI LB URN'S START IN LIFE . 


21 


took them into a little shop in one of the avenues to 
have them changed into money, and the man put 
them in the drawer, but would not pay me for them. 
He accused me of stealing them. 4 You’re not the 
first office boy has stolen his boss’s stamps and come 
here to sell them,’ he said. 4 Go and bring your boss, 
till I give him back his stamps.’ ” 

44 And being a country boy, you did not think of 
taking the address of the shop, I suppose? ’’the 
Captain asked. 

44 No, sir,” Kit answered. 44 He threatened to call a 
policeman if I didn’t go away, so I went.” 

44 Looks as if the shopkeeper was the thief himself,” 
said the Captain, smiling at Kit’s innocence. 44 Well, 
put your things back in your pockets. How old are 
you ? ” 

44 Sixteen, sir,” Kit answered; 44 nearly seventeen.” 

44 Ever been to sea ? ” 

44 No, sir. I know very little about the water, for 
a sailor’s boy. Huntington is ten miles back from 
the Sound, and a good many of the people there are 
seafaring men, but the boys don’t see much of salt 
water.” 

44 Would you like to go to sea?” the Captain asked, 
looking up at him suddenly. 

44 Yes, sir ; I should like it very much indeed,” 
Kit answered promptly. 

44 Well, I haven’t taken all this trouble with you 
just for amusement,” the Captain went on. 44 1 am 
in need of a cabin boy; and when I saw you in the 


22 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


hands of the policeman I rather thought that fate had 
sent me one without further trouble. I never take a 
boy who has run away from home, and for that reason 
I wanted to find out about you by what you had in 
your pockets. And I find that you have not run 
away, and that you have very good references. A boy 
with a Bible in his pocket and a letter from his mother 
and sister has as good references as I want. I’m not 
very much of a church man myself; know more 
about log books than prayer books, maybe ; but I 
like to see a boy who’s started out right. Would 
you like to be my cabin boy ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; I should like very much to have the 
place,” Kit replied. 

“ Then I’ll tell you what the place is, so you’ll 
know what you’re about,” the Captain continued. 
“ You know what a tramp steamer is, I suppose ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered. “ It is a steamer that 
belongs to no regular line, but goes wherever she can 
get freight to carry.” 

“ That’s it,” the Captain assented. “ And the 
North Cape is a tramp steamer. She belongs to no 
regular line, but goes wherever she can get freight 
to carry. She is chartered for one more voyage to 
Sisal after hemp, and after that she will go wherever 
business offers. It may be on one side of the world 
and it may be on the other. So if you go with me, 
you are just as* likely to be in China six months from 
now, as to be in New York.” 

Such a prospect made Kit’s eyes sparkle. 


KIT S/LB URN’S START IN LIFE. 23 

“ I should like that very much, sir,” he answered. 

“ Very well, then,” the Captain resumed. “ Your 
pay will be six dollars a month, and you are not to 
go ashore without leave. That is not very much pay, 
but on the ship you will get your board, so you will 
have more money at the end of the month than you 
would have with more pay on shore. Your work 
will be to do whatever you’re told, and you’ll have to 
walk a very straight line. Don’t think because I 
have talked to you so much to-night that I’m going 
to pet you, for I’m not. When a ship leaves port, 
there is only one law for everybody on board, and 
that is the captain’s orders.” 

He paused a moment, and then went on : — 

“ There is another boy on this ship, the engineers’ 
mess-room boy. You’ve heard the old saying, I sup- 
pose, that one boy is half a boy and two boys are 
no boy at all. But it’s not so on the North Cape. 
Each boy has to be a whole boy here, from the top 
of his head to the soles of his boots. I don’t allow 
any skylarking, or any quarrelling.” 

Kit saw that he was expected to make some 
reply, so he said, “ I will try to please you, sir.” 

“ I think you will,” said the Captain. “Now you 
have a start, — not a very big one, but as good as 
most boys have, — and the rest lies with yourself. 
You can push your way up in the world, or you 
can make a fool of yourself and go to the dogs. 
Nobody but yourself can say which it shall be.” 

“ I am very much obliged to you, sir,” Kit an- 


24 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


swered. “ I found it pretty hard to get the start, but 
now that I have it I shall try to make the most of it.” 

“ It’s time to turn in,” said the Captain, glancing 
at the cabin clock and seeing that it was almost mid- 
night. “ To-morrow you must write home for what- 
ever clothes you have. No matter what they are, 
they will be good enough when we are at sea. And 
you must ask your mother’s permission to go ; I 
won’t take you without that, but as soon as you get 
it, I will let you sign the crew list; and you can 
begin your work to-morrow morning, while you’re 
waiting for it. We’ll not be away from here for a 
week yet, and there’s plenty of time. You can sleep 
on one of the cabin sofas to-night.” 

With that the Captain turned the big lamp down 
low, picked up his overcoat, and disappeared through 
a door at the end of the cabin, leading, as Kit 
learned afterward, to his own stateroom. 

Kit was a little dazed at first by the rapidity with 
which things were happening. Late in the after- 
noon he had concluded to go without any supper, 
because he was not very hungry and he could not 
afford to eat just because it was meal time. Then 
he had looked about for a place to sleep outdoors, 
having no idea how many thousand homeless people 
in New York are doing that same thing every night, 
nor how vigilant the police are to drive them away 
or arrest them. He had spent two nights in cheap 
lodging-houses in the Bowery, but everything was 
so foul and uncomfortable there that he preferred 


KIT SI LB URN'S START IN LIFE . 25 

the open air. Then he had gone to sleep between 
the hemp bales, only to be poked with a club and 
shaken and put under arrest. And now here he was 
an hour later with as good a situation as he had 
hoped to find; and a chance to sleep in as snug 
and comfortable a cabin as he ever dreamed of ; and 
a prospect of breakfast in the morning that would 
not have to be paid for out of his poor little eighty- 
two cents. 

He went around the table to the longest of the 
three sofas in the cabin, and found it covered with 
soft leather cushions. There was even a leather pil- 
low at the end. He lay down and tried to think 
things over. He had no doubt that his mother would 
consent to his going, for it had always been intended 
that he should go to sea with his father. Then he 
thought about Genevieve and her stamps, and about 
Turk, and in five minutes he was fishing in his 
dreams, in Bonnibrook, the stream that runs through 
Huntington. 

A noise in the cabin awoke him. It was the stew- 
ard giving the place its morning cleaning ; and half 
asleep as he still was, Kit saw that the sun was 
streaming through the port-holes. 

“ Hello, there,” said the steward, “where did you 
come from ? ” 

Kit sat up and looked around. He had to think a 
moment before he could tell where he did come from. 

“ I’m the new cabin boy, sir,” he said. 

“ Get up, then, and stir yourself,” said the steward. 


CHAPTER II. 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


OR five days after Kit’s arrival on board the 



-L 1 North Cape the steam winches were at work ten 
hours a day with their deafening clatter, first in 
hoisting the remainder of the hemp bales out of the 
hold, then in taking in what shipping men call a 
“ general cargo,” consisting in part of barrels of 
flour, boxes of tea, cases of cloth, hats, shoes, and 
other things necessary in a country where little but 
hemp is produced. 

On the fifth day there came indications that the 
ship was about to sail. The last of the piles of mer- 
chandise on the wharf disappeared, the winches 
stopped, and two of the hatches were battened down. 
Kit was prepared for this, for he was now a legal 
member of the ship’s family, having signed the 
crew list. He had written home and had received 
his mother’s permission to go to sea, coupled with 
many loving expressions and much good advice ; and 
had received, too, an affectionate letter from Gene- 
vieve, and a little bundle containing the clothing he 
had left at home. 


26 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


2 7 


Early in the afternoon the Captain’s bell rang, and 
it was Kit’s business to answer it. 

“ Go tell the chief I want steam at eight o’clock,” 
he ordered. 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered, and ran up to the chief 
engineer’s room to deliver the order. When he left 
the chief’s room he was stopped near the engine-room 
skylights by the boatswain. 

“ Here, youngster,” said he, u run up for’ard and 
ask the first officer to send me the load-water-line ; 
I’ve got to take soundings.” 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered again, and was about to 
start on the errand when he was stopped by Tom 
Haines, the fourth engineer, a pleasant-faced young 
Scotchman of about twenty, who was leaning against 
the skylights. 

“ Don’t go, young ’un,” Haines said ; “ he’s trying 
to make a fool of you. The load-water-line is 
painted on the side of the ship; besides, we don’t 
take soundings lying at a wharf.” 

Kit laughed good-naturedly at the joke, and 
Haines added : — 

66 They’ll soon get tired of playing tricks on you, 
as you don’t get mad. Just keep your eyes open 
and your mouth shut, and you’ll soon know as much 
about the ship as any of them.” 

“ Oh, I don’t intend to let them make me mad,” 
Kit answered, “ no matter how many tricks they 
play on me. A new boy has to expect that sort of 
thing, I suppose.” 


28 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


Before he reached the cabin companionway he was 
stopped by “ Chocolate ” Cheevers, the engineer’s 
mess-room boy, whose nickname was generally abbre- 
viated to “ Chock.” This boy had already played 
more tricks upon Kit than all the rest of the crew 
combined, and the new cabin boy felt sure that he 
would not be a pleasant companion on the voyage. 
The curious nickname that the sailors had given him 
came, it was easy to see, from the brown hue of his 
skin 5 and this and his tight-curled black hair and 
velvety brown eyes marked him for a light West 
Indian mulatto. He was about a year older than 
Kit, tall and slender. 

“ Say, farmer,” he said, laying a hand on Kit’s 
shoulder (disliking his own nickname, he was anxious 
to attach one to Kit), “ don’t you want to go ashore 
with me and have a look at the town to-night? This 
will be our last night in port.” 

“Why, we’re going to sail at eight o’clock,” Kit 
answered. 

“ Well, you are a green one ! ” Chock laughed. 
“ How can we sail before we get our crew on board ? 
We’ll not leave the wharf before midnight, and then 
she’ll anchor out in the harbor till morning.” 

“ But I can’t go on shore without leave,” Kit pro- 
tested, “ nor you either.” 

“We can get leave fast enough, on the last night. 
Come along, and we’ll take in some of the shows on 
the Bowery. It’s a gay old place, that Bowery.” 

“ Oh, that’s what you mean by taking a look at 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


29 


the town, is it?” Kit laughed. “I don’t care about 
that kind of a look, thank you. I saw a little of the 
Bowery when I was looking for a job, and I’m not 
fond of it ; and I have no money to throw away on 
sucli things. We’d better both stay on board and 
attend to our business.” 

“ Ah, the cabin boy is a preacher as well as a 
farmer, is he?” Chock sneered. “ Service of song 
every Sunday morning.” 

“ No, I am no preacher,” Kit answered pleasantly; 
“ but I am not fool enough to spend my money on 
Bowery shows, either.” 

The Captain’s bell rang again, and he had to hurry 
away before Chock had a chance to retort. He was 
wanted this time to help the Captain get ready to go 
ashore ; and after the Captain had gone he took the 
opportunity to write his last letter home before 
sailing, as he always had less to do when the Captain 
was away. There were writing-materials on the big 
cabin table, and he sat down and wrote : — 

Dear Mother and Yieve: — We are getting up steam and 
will be off to-night or to-morrow morning, so this is the last 
letter you will get from me till I am back from Yucatan. And 
won’t I be a regular old sailor by that time ! 

The Captain has gone ashore, and we expect the rest of the 
crew this evening. You see only about half the crew stay by 
the ship all the time; the rest are shipped new for every 
voyage. The regular ones are the Captain, the first and 
second mates, the chief engineer and his three assistants, the 
boatswain, the cabin steward, cabin boy (that’s the under- 
signed !), cook, galley boy (that boy is about thirty !), and the 


30 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


engineers’ mess-room boy. Then before sailing we ship six 
men “ before the mast,” and four firemen, or stokers. That 
will make twenty-three of us on board when we sail. 

I think I have given the Captain satisfaction so far, and I 
like it first-rate. Of course we are only in port yet, but I 
shall like it at sea too. We have a beautiful little cabin, and 
the Captain’s room is about half as large as the cabin. I have 
to take care of his room, keep it clean, and keep his clothes 
in order; clean the cabin every morning, fill and polish the 
big lamp, run when the Captain’s bell rings, and, as he says, 
“ do whatever I’m told,” which of course I do. 

At the other end of the cabin, across a little alley, are three 
good staterooms. The first and second mates have one together, 
and the cabin steward and I have another. He sleeps in the 
lower berth, and I in the upper. It makes fine quarters for 
us ; but we would have to move out if there were passengers on 
board. 

At meal times the Captain and first mate eat together first, 
then the second mate comes down and eats, and after he is 
done the steward and I eat together. The engineers have 
their own mess-room. Of course there is plenty to eat, and 
our china is all marked N. C., for North Cape. You wouldn’t 
think things would be so grand on a freight ship. Why, the 
cabin is all furnished in mahogany, with soft leather cushions. 
Oh, I forgot to say that I have to help the steward wash the 
dishes, so it’s well you taught me how. 

Don’t think I am off on a pleasure trip. I didn’t leave you 
both for that. I have lots of work to do ; and I hope to do it 
faithfully, so that before long I may be something better than 
a cabin boy. But cabin boy isn’t so bad for just now. 

The North Cape’s size is 2850 tons, and she is a very strong 
iron ship ; so you need not be worried about me. Shake dear 
old Turk’s paw good-by for me. You know how much love 
I send to you both. Good-by for a month or six weeks. 

Your loving 


Kit. 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


31 


That was the longest letter he had ever written; 
and by the time it was finished he had to help set 
the supper table, for the ship’s meals must go on 
whether the Captain was on board or not. Then 
the dishes were hardly washed and put away after 
supper before the Captain returned, to be followed 
in a few minutes by a shipping agent who brought 
the crew — the six sailors and four stokers, most of 
whom had been supplied with enough liquor to make 
them willing to sign orders for advances on their 
pay, for the benefit of the agent and boarding-house 
keeper. Some of them were quite sober, however, 
and there was one young man of good appearance 
whom Kit thought he should like. 

It was nine o’clock by the time the sailors were 
aboard and quartered down in the forecastle, but 
still there were no further signs of the ship’s moving ; 
on the contrary, the Captain went ashore again, and 
the usual harbor lights were kept burning in the 
rigging. About eleven o’clock, having nothing to do, 
but feeling too much excited over the start to turn 
in, Kit went up on deck, and was glad to find Tom 
Haines taking the air while he waited for his watch 
to begin at midnight. 

u I wonder why we don’t get off, sir,” Kit said, 
going up to the young engineer. 

“ You mustn’t say ‘ sir ’ to me, young ’un,” Haines 
laughed. “ It’s only the Captain and the two mates 
and the chief engineer that you’re to say ‘ sir ’ to. 
But we’ll be off in a few minutes now.” 


32 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Then we’ll be out at sea in two or three hours ! ” 
Kit exclaimed. 

a Not a bit of it,” Haines answered. “We’d 
hardly go to sea without the Captain, and he is 
spending the night on shore. We’ll drop down 
below the Statue of Liberty and anchor there, and 
some time to-morrow we’ll get off.” 

“ What delays us so long, when everything is 
ready ? ” Kit asked. 

“ Everything is not ready,” Haines replied. “ We 
have to give the crew a few hours to sober up in, 
for one thing ; they are not fit for duty now. It’s 
an outrageous shame the way the sailors are brought 
on board drunk ; but that’s always the way, so I 
suppose there’s no use worrying about it. Then we 
can’t go till the charterers of the ship tell us to ; 
the minute they say go, we’re off. You may as well 
turn in, young ’un, for you’ll not see her fairly under 
way much before noon to-morrow.” 

Kit went down to the cabin and did such odd jobs 
as he could find, for he knew it was useless for him 
to try to sleep when the ship was about to move. 
When everything was straightened up, he sat down 
by the big table under the lamp and took out the 
little book in which his mother had written his 
name. 

“ I wish they’d had steamships in these Bible 
times,” he said to himself ; “ I’d like to see what 
they had to say about them. There’s a good deal 
here about ships, but they were all such little ones ; 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


33 


and I don’t see anything about cabin boys ; maybe 
they didn’t have any cabins.” 

He had not been reading long before the blowing 
of the big whistle and the noise on deck told him 
that the ship was about to move, and he hurried 
oijt. But that first little stage of the journey was 
a disappointment. She merely crawled over to the 
Statue of Liberty and dropped her anchor, and there 
was nothing to be seen but the great blazing torch 
over the statue, and the twinkling lights on shore. 

It was hardly daylight in the morning when Kit 
felt himself roughly shaken, and heard the voice of 
the steward saying : — 

“ Come, hustle out here, boy. We’re away from 
the wharf now, and you’ve got to stir yourself. 
Don’t lie there and say ‘yes, sir,’ but jump. I’ll 
have no lazy boys about my cabin.” 

Kit sprang up and dressed as fast as he could, but 
nothing he did satisfied the steward, who ordered 
him here and there apparently for the sake of show- 
ing his authority, scolded him, and once took him by 
the shoulders and shook him. 

“ I’d rather hate to sail with the steward for cap- 
tain ! ” Kit said to himself, laughing inwardly at the 
little man’s feeble attempt at violence. He did not 
even know the man’s name, for he was always ad- 
dressed as “ steward ” ; but he was a middle-aged, 
dried-up little fellow, his yellowish face marked from 
small-pox, and his body so thin that his coat always 
hung like a bag. He spoke with a strong foreign 


34 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


accent, and Kit had noticed already that the Captain 
did not seem to like to have him about him ; but he 
was a capital steward, and understood his business 
from top to bottom. 

“ I ought to have brought a note-book along to keep 
a list of the things I learn,” Kit said to himself after 
several hours of this nagging ; “ I’ve learned a fresh 
thing this morning, anyhow — not to make a show 
of myself by giving unnecessary orders if I’m ever 
put in any little position of authority.” 

How differently the Captain managed things ! 
About ten o’clock a little tug came alongside, and 
the Captain and the pilot climbed aboard. 

“ Put her under way, Mr. Mason,” he said to the 
first mate as he passed him, as quietly as if he had 
been saying “ It’s a fine day.” The steward would 
have made more fuss over having the carving-knife 
cleaned. 

It was a grand thing to be steaming out to sea in 
a fine ship like the North Cape; but now that the 
moment had come Kit felt a little more serious over 
it than he expected. He had never been away from 
home before, and a thousand recollections of the old 
place crowded into his mind. What were his mother 
and Vieve doing, and how long would it be before 
he should see them again? Having little to do in 
the middle of the morning, he went up on deck and 
leaned over the rail while the steamer ran down 
through the Narrows and into the lower bay. Every- 
thing was new and beautiful to him ; but he would 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


35 


have enjoyed it more if there had not been, some- 
how, a little bit of a haze before his eyes. Suddenly 
he felt a friendly clap on the back, and heard the 
kindly voice of Tom Haines: — 

“ Brace up, young un. You might as well start 
your first voyage laughing as crying.” 

“ Oh, I’m not crying,” Kit protested ; and he 
proved it by wiping the back of his hand across his 
eyes. “ You’ll think I’m a big baby, won’t you ? ” 

“ Not at all,” Haines answered; “I salted the ocean 
myself a little when I first left home. You’ll soon 
get used to being away.” 

“It’s not only that,” Kit said thoughtfully. “ This 
is the first time I’ve ever seen the big ocean, and I 
can’t help thinking that my father is lying at the 
bottom of it somewhere. He was lost at sea about 
a year ago.” 

“ All the more reason for you to keep up a bold front, 
young ’un,” Haines insisted. “ If you have no father, 
you have to shift for yourself, and for your family 
too, like enough. Keep at work and don’t stop to 
think about such things. If you want to send a 
line home to let them know you’re all right, you can 
send it ashore by the pilot, you know, when we’re 
outside the Hook.” 

Captain Griffith was not the man to leave his ship 
in the hands of the pilot, as some captains do. He 
was up on the bridge, glass in hand, and remained 
there till he had seen the flags run up that announced 
to the signal station at Sandy Hook, “ North Cape, 


36 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


for Sisal,” so that her departure would be announced 
to the owners and all interested. Then he went be- 
low, and the chief mate took his place on the bridge. 

Kit was surprised, perhaps almost disappointed, to 
find that the sea was as smooth as the bay. It was 
one of those days that come sometimes even in win- 
ter, when there is hardly a ripple on the surface. 
There was not a sign of the seasickness he expected, 
and while the Captain was on the bridge he had an 
opportunity to write another u last line ” home. 

“ Dear Mother,” he wrote with pencil, “ I can write 
you another line to send by the pilot. We are at sea 
now, just outside Sandy Hook, and it is as smooth 
as Bonnibrook. I am not the least seasick. A little 
bit homesick, but I’ll soon work that off. I have to 
help set the dinner table now. Love to all. Kit.” 

In another half-hour the pilot was gone, and they 
were fairly cut off from the world till they reached 
the coast of Yucatan. The Atlantic Highlands 
loomed up, and Seabright, and Long Branch, and so 
many more places on the New Jersey coast, that it 
looked to Kit as if it must be one continuous town. 
When darkness came they could still see the lights on 
shore.. 

An hour after supper the Captain went into his 
stateroom, sat down at his desk that had a bookcase 
over the top, and called Kit. He had a bundle of 
very large sheets closely written in columns before 
him, and more sheets of the same paper, blank. 

“ Can you read writing, my boy?” he asked. 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


37 


“ Oh, yes, I know you can,” he added, “ for you read 
a letter to me. See whether you can read this writ- 
ing to me while I copy it,” and he ‘handed Kit one of 
the big sheets. 

Kit took it and began with the first line across 
the broad page : — 

“ ‘ Hernandez & Co., Merida,’ ” he read ; “ ‘ 1 case 
dry goods; weight 168 pounds;’ then here’s some 
sort of a mark — a square with an H inside of it.” 

“ That’s what we call a diamond H,” the Captain 
explained ; “ when it’s in a circle, we call it a circle 
H. Now go on.” 

Kit read several more of the lines without diffi- 
culty, till the Captain stopped him. 

“ You’ve been to school, then, have you?” he 
asked. 

“ Oh, yes, sir ! ” Kit answered. “ I always went 
to school till about six months ago. Since then I’ve 
been doing whatever work I could get.” 

“ Study geography ? ” the Captain asked. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ What do you know about the place we’re going 
to — Sisal ? ” 

“It is a small place on the coast of Yucatan, sir,” 
Kit answered promptly ; “ a seaport for the city of 
Merida, which lies about twenty miles inland. But 
I have learned most of that from your books here 
since I came aboard, sir,” he added, blushing a little. 

“Well, I am glad to see you are honest about it,” 
the Captain said, with a smile. “ I think you can 


38 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


stand there and read some of these manifests to me 
while I copy them. These things are the plague of my 
life. 1 have to make three copies of them before we 
reach Sisal, and I’d rather navigate a ship around the 
world than do it. Go ahead, now, and be very careful ; 
for the least mistake will make no end of trouble.” 

Kit began and read line by line with great care, 
while the Captain laboriously copied. After fifteen 
or twenty minutes of the work the Captain laid down 
the pen, and began to open and shut his hand and to 
rub it. 

“ Ah, my fingers are not as nimble as they once 
were,” he said. “ It gives me cramp in the hand.” 

For some time Kit had been revolving something 
in his mind while he read, but could not quite deter- 
mine to speak it out. This pause of the Captain’s, 
however, decided him. 

“ I write a plain hand, sir,” he said ; “ if you could 
trust me, I think I could copy them for you.” 

The Captain looked up at him with one of the pier- 
cing looks that seemed to go through him, and Kit was 
a little alarmed. Maybe it was presuming too much 
for the cabin boy to suggest such a thing. Even 
then, though, under that sharp gaze he thought it was 
worth the venture, for if he succeeded, it would show 
that he was good for something better than scouring 
the knives. 

“ Sit down here and let me see your handwriting,” 
the Captain said at length, laying a bit of plain paper 
on top of the manifests. 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


39 


Kit sat down and took up the pen, and had just 
begun to write when something happened that gave 
him so much satisfaction that he could hardly keep a 
straight face. There came a knock at the door, and 
the engineers’ mess-room boy stepped in with the 
engineer’s report of the number of tons of coal in 
the bunkers. For this boy to see him seated in the 
Captain’s stateroom, writing at the Captain’s desk, 
with the Captain himself standing by watching him, 
was the best answer he could give to the assertion 
that he was a “ farmer ” and a “ preacher.” Chock 
Cheevers could not have looked more astonished if he 
had seen one of the stokers on the bridge taking an 
observation. 

The little interruption over, Kit wrote, as neatly 
and plainly as he could, “ Christopher Silburn, cabin 
boy, steamship North Cape , for Sisal.” 

“ Yes, that is a good plain hand,” the Captain said, 
taking the paper. “ I will let you try it, at any rate. 
You can go ahead while I go up on the bridge. Re- 
member that you can’t be too careful.” 

He hooked the stateroom door open as he went 
out ; and he had hardly been gone five minutes before 
Mr. Hanway, the big, powerful second mate, went 
down to his room for a reefing jacket. Seeing the 
new boy at the Captain’s desk, and being fond of a 
little quiet fun, he went up to the open door, touched 
his cap in mock politeness, and said, 

“ She’s heading sou-sou-west, sir.” 

Kit hardly knew whether he dared joke with the 


40 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


second mate or not ; but with an inspiration he 
looked up from his work without the least change 
of countenance, and, returning the salute, replied, 

“ Very good, sir; keep her so, sir.” 

More than an hour passed before the Captain re- 
turned from the bridge, and in the interval Kit nearly 
filled one of the large sheets. 

“ That will do for to-night,” the Captain said, look- 
ing over the page. “ You have done it very well ; 
but there’s more than one night ; you can do a little 
at it every evening.” 

Then the steward had something to say when Kit 
went into the pantry, which also opened from the 
cabin. The steward was not pleased to see the new 
boy taken into the Captain’s favor. 

“ I want that cabin cleaned before six o’clock in 
the morning,” he growled. a You needn’t think 
you’re going to shirk your work because you write 
for the Captain.” 

“ Very well, sir,” Kit answered. “ I don’t intend 
to shirk any work.” 

It did not seem quite right, on his first voyage, 
that the sea should be so smooth all the way down 
the coast. Even when the Noi'tli Cape passed Hat- 
teras there was no more than a little swell. When 
she reached the Florida coast, in about four days, she 
kept so well in shore that the sandy beach could be 
seen plainly, and the palm trees just as he had seen 
them in pictures. He learned from Tom Haines that 
steamers bound for the Gulf always run as close to 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


41 


the Florida coast as they dare, to be inside of the 
Gulf Stream, which flows northward at the rate of 
about four miles an hour, and retards a south-bound 
steamer just that much when she runs against it. 

On the seventh day they sighted the eastern cliffs 
of Yucatan ; and after two days of steaming along 
the coast, but so far out that they could see nothing 
but the outlines of the low hills, Kit learned that 
they were approaching Sisal. By that time he had 
made three copies of the long manifest, working 
at it a little nearly every evening on the cabin 
table. 

It was early in a hot afternoon that they dropped 
anchor off Sisal ; and nowhere in the world is it 
more appropriate to say of a ship that she lies “ off” 
a port, for at Sisal a ship of any size must lie 
at least three miles off. There is no harbor, and 
the shore slopes off so gradually that no ship can 
approach the town. 

“ That must have been as smooth a voyage as 
ever a ship made,” Kit said to Tom Haines, as they 
stood by the rail together when the anchor went 
down. “ I didn’t know it ever was so smooth for 
ten days at a time.” 

“The Atlantic is a treacherous old pond,” Tom 
answered. “ To-day it makes you believe it’s only 
a big lake; to-morrow it knocks you all to pieces. 
And this is a bad part of the coast we’re on, this 
south side of the Gulf ; when we get any bad weather 
here, we have to hoist anchor and run to sea. But 


42 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


you want to keep your eyes open now ; you’ll see 
some queer people in a few minutes.” 

“ What are all those little boats coming out to 
us? ” Kit asked ; “ lighters to take off the cargo ?” 

“ No indeed ! ” Tom laughed. “ They don’t begin 
work as fast as that here. Everything is ‘manana’ 
here, which means 4 to-morrow ’ in Spanish ; these 
people all speak Spanish, you know. That first 
boat, the one with the flag at the stern and rowed 
by four men, is the government boat, that brings 
out the Captain of the port, the health officer, and 
a lot of custom-house men. After they have exam- 
ined our papers and found that we’re all well, the 
other boats will come up. They are what we call 
‘ bum-boats,’ with things to sell — cigars and tobacco, 
bead work, canes plated witli tortoise-shell, all sorts 
of nonsense ; and they will be on the lookout for 
passengers who may want to go ashore. But it’s 
the officers in the first boat I want you to see ; 
they’ll be aboard in a minute.” 

The gangway had been lowered, and after a great 
deal of shouting in Spanish the government boat 
came up to it and made fast. Then there came up 
the steps a dozen swarthy men whose appearance 
gave Kit more surprise than anything else he had 
seen on the voyage. Each one, as far as he could 
see, wore nothing but a white shirt and a high black 
silk hat, with a belt around the waist with a big 
revolver stuck in each side. They carried them- 
selves with great dignity, which made their costume 


A VOYAGE TO YUCATAN. 


43 


all the more grotesque ; and as they stood on deck 
shaking hands with Captain Griffith, it was as much 
as Kit could do to restrain his laughter. 

“ Don’t they wear trousers in this country?” he 
whispered to Tom. 

“ They all have trousers on — white linen ones,” 
Tom answered ; “ but they roll them clear up so 
they won’t get wet in the boat. And it’s the fashion 
in Yucatan to wear the end of the shirt outside 
instead of inside the trousers. It wouldn’t be so 
bad in this hot climate, with their bare feet and 
legs, if they didn’t wear the high black hats to look 
stylish.” 

The Captain took his visitors down into the cabin ; 
and next minute his bell rang, and Kit had to run. 


CHAPTER III. 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 

HEN the port officers returned to shore they 



» V left behind four of the custom-house men, 
who were to stay on board the North Cape as long 
as she lay there ; and these men deposited their high 
hats in the cabin and put on dark blue caps that 
they carried in their pockets, rolled down their 
trousers, and thus, though still in their bare feet, 
transformed themselves into respectable-looking citi- 


zens, 


Kit heard the order given from the bridge, “ Lower 
away the captain’s gig ! ” and in a few minutes Cap- 
tain Griffith followed the officers ashore to arrange 
for lighters to land his cargo. He returned in time 
for supper, bringing along a package of letters that 
had been handed him at the custom-house — some 
for himself, and some for members of the crew. 

“ I think I have something here for you, Chris- 
topher,” he said as he passed through the cabin, 
where Kit was setting the table. “ Yes,” he went 
on, pausing under the lamp to look over the letters, 
“ ‘ Mr. Christopher Silburn, S. S. North Cape , Sisal, 


44 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


45 


Yucatan.’ There’s news from home for you. The 
mail steamer left three days behind us, but she has 
beaten us down and gone on to Vera Cruz; so you 
will have a chance to answer your letter when she 
comes back, in about a week.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Kit answered, as the Captain 
handed him a letter addressed in his mother’s fa- 
miliar handwriting. He was delighted to hear from 
home, but still the letter frightened him a little, for 
he had not expected to hear while he was away, and 
his first thought was that there must be something 
the matter. He hastily cut the envelope open and 
read far enough to see that no one was sick, then 
put the letter in his pocket till his work was done. 
It was not till the supper dishes were washed and 
put away that he had any leisure, and then he sat 
down under the cabin lamp and read it. The main 
letter was from his mother, and there was a shorter 
one from Genevieve. 

My dear Boy [his mother wrote] : Though I have no news 
to tell you, I want to send you a few lines by the first mail 
steamer, for I don’t want you to feel that you are entirely cut 
off from home and family. No matter how far away you are, 
you know we are always thinking about you. 

And I don’t want to tire you with a lot of advice, but I do 
hope, my dear boy, that you will take care of yourself in every 
way. It may be selfish in me to say so, but I want you to re- 
member that you have not only yourself, but your mother and 
sister too, to think about and work for. You are all we have. 
I am sure you will do your best wherever you are, but I want 
you to take great care of your health. That is an unhealthy 


46 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


country you are in, and you must not expose yourself to the 
hot sun. I will try to have some new shirts ready for you 
when you get back to New York ; .and I think you had better 
buy a few handkerchiefs, for you have not enough. And don’t 
forget the little book I gave you, Kit. 

Your Loving Mother. 

Then he unfolded the note from Genevieve. 

Dear Kit [she wrote ] : This is the first note I ever wrote 
without mother’s seeing it, but I do not want her to see this, 
because I am going to write to you about father, and that 
always troubles her. 

I want you always, when you are travelling about the world, 
to keep your ears open for news of the Flower City or some of 
her boats. It may be foolish, but I never can believe that we 
shall not see him any more. You know how many people have 
been shipwrecked and then come home again years afterwards. 
You’ll do this, won’t you ? 

Dear old Turk is trying to write to you. He heard me say 
that I was going to write, so he sits here beside me, putting up 
first one paw and then the other. I am sure he would write if 
he could. With love, Vieve. 

He was about to read the letters over again, when 
the Captain’s bell rang. All the doors and port-holes 
were left open now, for the heat was intense even 
after dark, and he went into the Captain’s room 
without knocking. 

“ Shut the door, my boy,” the Captain said ; “ I 
have something to say to you ; ” and as Kit obeyed, 
he could not help wondering whether he had done 
anything that he was to be scolded for. But the 
Captain’s first words relieved his mind. 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


47 


“ I am going to put you at a job to-morrow that 
will require all your brains,” lie said. “The lighters 
will be here in the morning after cargo, and I am 
going to send you ashore to make a list of every 
package landed. I have to keep a sharp eye on these 
boatmen, or they rob me. Everything will be 
checked off as it leaves the ship, and you will keep 
a list on shore, and the goods go into the hands of 
our agent in Sisal immediately, and he receipts for 
them. 

“ Now I want you to understand,” he continued, 
“ that this is very important work. I have never 
trusted such work to a cabin boy before. If you 
miss a package, it may cost me a great many dollars. 
But I see you have some brains, and I want you to 
use them, and do the work carefully.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Kit answered. “ I will cer- 
tainly do my best.” 

Kit returned to the cabin, with a little flush on his 
face. He had seen for some days that his position 
on the ship was much better than when he started, 
but he had not dreamed of such an important com- 
mission as this. It would give him a great amount 
of extra work to do, but what of that ? He was not 
afraid of work. Nearly any one in the crew would 
jump at the chance to go ashore and do what he was 
to do. Copying the manifests had given him extra 
work, but it had paid many times over by giving the 
Captain a good opinion of him. 

Immediately after breakfast next morning the gig 


48 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


was lowered again, and the Captain was rowed ashore 
by two of the men, with Kit sitting in the stern by 
his side. Kit knew how some of the crew were wonder- 
ing to see him going oh in this style, but he had no 
chance to speak to them. On the way they passed 
three of the lighters going out — open boats about 
thirty feet long, very strongly built, with a single 
mast, each with a large crew of half-clad Mexicans 
ready for work. 

The Captain waited till the first of the lighters 
arrived with its load, and showed Kit where he was to 
stand on the mole, as the Mexicans call the wharf, and 
how he was to keep his list. Then he returned to the 
ship, and the cabin boy was left to his own resources. 

“Fm going to be roasted and broiled and frizzled 
here,” he said to himself, “ under this sun. But I 
can stand it if these fellows can. And when there’s 
no lighter in sight I can get into the shade there be- 
side the warehouse.” 

He soon found that he was to have company in 
the hot sun ; for as the agent had to receipt for the 
goods, he sent one of his own clerks to check them off 
on one of the manifests that Kit had copied. The 
clerk was a slender young man in a broad-brimmed 
Panama hat; and Kit was greatly amused when he 
touched his hat to him, and called him “Senor.” 
But the young man spoke a little English, and they 
soon became acquainted. 

“ You are young for a supercargo, Senor,” the 
clerk said, in a lull in the work. 



‘“you are young for a supercargo, SENOR.’” 



A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 49 

Kit had read enough sea stories to know some- 
thing about supercargoes, though he did not know 
that he was doing the work of one at that minute. 

“Fm not the supercargo, sir,” he replied ; u Fm the 
cabin boy ; we have no supercargo.” 

“ Ah ! ” said the clerk ; and it was still more amus- 
ing to see how dignified he immediately became, and 
what a superior air he assumed. But another tri- 
fling incident soon made him friendly again, for the 
agent himself came down to the mole to inquire 
about something, and he, too, touched his hat to 
Kit and called him Senor, whereupon the clerk said 
something in Spanish that must have explained that 
Kit was only the cabin boy, for the agent immedi- 
ately replied, “ Oh, cabin boy is he? Well, he must 
be a good one, or he wouldn’t be put at this work. 
Bring him up to the house to breakfast.” 

Kit was under the impression that he had had his 
breakfast several hours before, on board ship ; but he 
followed Tom Haines’s advice to “ keep his eyes 
open and his mouth shut,” and before long he learned 
that the southern custom is to take only a cup of 
coffee and a roll in the early morning, and to wait 
till midday for the full breakfast, which is really an 
early dinner. 

About twelve o’clock there were no lighters in 
sight, for the boatmen were eating their breakfast 
too, and the clerk took Kit through a narrow street 
to a big one-story stone warehouse, the agent’s busi- 
ness place, where, on a shady rear verandah, a long 


50 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


table was spread. This was “ the house ” the agent 
had referred to ; and by keeping both eyes and ears 
open, Kit learned that it is the custom in Yucatan 
for the proprietors and all the employees of large 
business houses to eat together in the warehouses, a 
cook and waiters being kept on the premises. 

He was a little embarrassed to find that he was to 
be seated at the right hand of Mr. Ysnard, the agent, 
near the head of the table ; for he was bright enough 
to see that the seats were arranged according to 
rank in the firm, with the proprietor at the top of 
the table, the cashier and chief clerks next, then 
the minor clerks, and the porters and boys near the 
foot. 

“ Hadn’t I better go lower down, sir ? ” he asked. 
“ I don’t think I belong up here.” 

“ Oh, yes, you do ! ” Mr. Ysnard laughed ; “you 
are my guest to-day, and my guests always belong in 
the seat of honor.” 

While the many courses were brought on, soup, 
fish, roasts, dessert, and fruits, Mr. Ysnard asked Kit 
enough questions to keep him busy answering — how 
long he had been on the North Cape , how he liked 
it, where he lived, and all about himself. But when, 
after the meal was finished, they all sat talking, and 
most of them smoking, he began to grow uneasy. 

“I shall have to ask you to excuse me, sir,” he 
said to Mr. Ysnard. “ I am afraid some of the 
lighters will be coming in, and I must not miss any- 
thing.” 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


51 


“ Very true, my boy, you must attend to business,” 
Mr. Ysnard answered. “ And you can safely follow 
the example, Michel,” he called down the table to 
Kit’s fellow-clerk on the wharf, who sat about the 
middle. 

Together they returned to their work, and up to 
dark they had little chance for conversation, for eight 
lighters were now busy bringing cargo. When it 
was too dark to see longer, the gig was sent to take 
Kit on board. 

“ Make way for the supercargo ! ” Chock Cheevers 
cried, as he stepped on board. “ Clear a gangway 
there. Don’t you see who’s come aboard ?” 

But the second mate had something more impor- 
tant to say. 

“ Bring your list into the chart-room,” he ordered, 
“ and compare it with my tally.” The second mate 
had been keeping the tally of everything that left the 
ship ; and when the comparison was made they cor- 
responded exactly, showing that on his first day, at 
any rate, Kit had made no mistakes. 

It seemed a ] ittle odd to go to washing dishes 
again after being a clerk all day ; but they were soon 
done, and next morning he was out bright and early 
to clean the cabin and set the table. After break- 
fast he was rowed ashore as before, but dressed this 
time in his thinnest clothes. Even at eight o’clock 
the sun was burning hot, and the cloudless sky 
seemed to indicate an intensely hot day. He was 
soon to learn, however, that tropical skies change 


52 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


very rapidly. Five or six of the lighters had come 
in with loads and returned to the ship, when there 
came a single puff of wind from off the water that 
reminded Kit of home. It was the first really cool 
thing he had felt since his arrival in Yucatan ; and 
this little puff, lasting only a few seconds, was more 
than cool — it was actually chilly. 

“ Ah, that’s good ! ” he said to the clerk ; “ I wish 
they’d give us more of that.” 

The clerk shivered in his linen clothes, and 
pointed with one hand toward the sky. There far 
in the north was a big dark-gray cloud, that seemed 
to grow larger and darker as they looked at it. 

“El Norte!” Michel exclaimed ; and shivered again. 

“ What’s that ? ” Kit asked. 

“ A norther, you call it in English,” the clerk 
replied ; “a great cold storm from the north. That 
puts an end to our work for some days. There’ll be 
a heavy sea on in a few minutes.” 

“ Then I ought to get back to the ship,” Kit said 
half to himself. 

“ You couldn’t do it,” said the clerk. “ Look.” 

He pointed seaward, and Kit saw all the lighters 
scudding toward shore before a wind that they 
hardly felt yet on the mole. Thick black smoke was 
pouring from the North Cape's funnel, and across 
the water he heard the “ click, click, click,” of the 
steam windlass. 

“ Why, she’s going off ! ” Kit cried ; “ she’s hoist- 
ing anchor ! ” 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


53 


“ Of course she is,” Michel laughed ; “ she’ll have 
to put to sea ; she can’t lie there in a norther, and 
you’ll see no more of her till the storm is over. 
That often happens here.” 

“ And what becomes of a cabin boy who happens 
to be left on shore?” Kit asked, half inclined to 
laugh at the predicament he' was in. 

“ You’re better oh here than on the ship,” Michel 
answered, “ and we won’t let you starve.” 

By this time the whole sky was overcast, and 
frequent blasts of the cold wind struck them. The 
foremost of the lighters arrived, and their men 
worked like beavers to land what cargo they had. 
All about were men on the beach drawing their 
boats far up on shore out of reach of the heavy sea 
that they knew was coming. As fast as the lighters 
were unloaded, they too were drawn up. It was as 
much too cold now as before it had been too hot, 
but they had to stay on the mole till everything was 
checked off. 

“Now make a run for it to the warehouse ! ” It 
was the voice of Mr. Ysnard, who had come down to 
see that all was left snug, and who saw that both 
the youngsters were shivering. Already the spray 
was beginning to fly over the mole, and in one 
glance seaward Kit saw that the North Cape was 
standing out into the Gulf. He was left alone in 
Yucatan ; but instead of waiting to worry over it, 
he took to his heels and beat Michel to the ware- 
house by several yards. 


54 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


There he hardly knew the place, it was so dark ; 
for all the shutters on the seaward side had been 
closed to keep out the wind, as there was no glass in 
the windows. People were hurrying through the 
streets, and the sky was growing blacker every 
minute. 

“ Now we’ll catch it, my boy,” Mr. Ysnard 
laughed, as he followed them in, half soaked with 
spray. “ Three days these things last, generally, 
and then it takes two or three more for the sea to 
go down so that the lighters can go out. So you are 
a prisoner in Mexico for five days at least, and you 
will be my guest longer than you expected.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Kit answered ; “ but I hope the 
ship will not be in any danger.” 

“ Oh, no more than from any other storm. There 
is plenty of sea room, and she will run out fifty or 
a hundred miles and keep her nose in the wind. 
No, she will be all right.” 

The breakfast table had to be set in the ware- 
house, as the verandah was too much exposed to the 
wind ; and Kit noticed that the norther interfered 
with business and upset everything just about as 
much as an earthquake would at home. The clerks 
really suffered from cold, though Kit found it warm 
enough in the shelter of the building. The storm 
increased every minute, and they soon began to hear 
the roar of the sea breaking against the mole. 

It was a relief to everybody when closing time 
came, five o’clock. Mr. Ysnard’s open carriage ar- 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


55 


rived to carry him to his home in the country, and 
he told Kit that he was to go along. 

“ But you must have something around you, in this 
wind,” he said; “ I think I can lend you a Mexican 
overcoat.” And he went into the office and returned 
in a minute with two large red blankets, one for him- 
self and one for Kit. 

“ This is what we call a ‘ serape,’ ” 1 he explained. 
“ See, there is a slit cut in the middle for the head 
to go through,” and he slipped the blanket over 
Kit’s head and put his own on in the same way ; and 
Kit could not help laughing to see himself so sud- 
denly transformed into a young Mexican. 

As they were driven through the streets he saw 
that Sisal was a desolate little place of few houses, 
some of them of stone plastered over and some 
covered with corrugated iron ; and the streets were 
nearly deserted on account of the norther, and most 
of the shutters closed. The few men to be seen were 
all wrapped in serapes, which warmed the shoulders, 
but could not warm the bare feet, nor heads covered 
with straw hats. 

Mr. Ysnard’s house was on the brow of a low hill 
overlooking the town and the sea, and after the late 
dinner he took Kit into his “ den,” as he called it, 
and they had a long talk before bedtime. 

u As you copied the manifests,” the agent said in 
the course of the conversation, “ you are familiar 
with all the marks on the cargo. You may see some 

1 Pronounced ser-rap-pa. 


56 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


cases coming ashore without any marks at all. Those 
are little private ventures by some of the officers or 
crew ; and when you see one of them all you have to 
do is let it pass without putting it on your list, you 
know. They escape paying duty by slipping them 
through that way.” 

“ No, sir ; I have no instructions of that kind,” Kit 
answered. “ My orders are to make a list of every- 
thing brought ashore.” 

“ But if there should be a little profit in it for 
you?” Mr. Ysnard suggested. “ Suppose you were 
paid a small commission on everything that slipped 
through without your seeing it ? ” 

“I don’t think you ought to ask it of me, Mr. 
Ysnard,” Kit replied. “ The Captain trusts me, and 
I should be ashamed to betray him. I couldn’t possi- 
bly do it.” 

“Ah, my boy, I was just trying you,” Mr. Ysnard 
laughed, giving Kit a hearty clap on the shoulder. 
“ I am glad to see that you are not to be tempted. 
That is just what we want to avoid, the landing of 
such smuggled cases, for they get both the ship and 
the agent into a lot of trouble. I suppose the Cap- 
tain sent you ashore because he was sure he could 
trust you. 

“ There is always room for bright young fellows 
who can be trusted,” he added ; “ in fact, I could 
make room in my own business for a young American 
of about your age. How would you like to leave the 
ship and make more money in Sisal ? ” 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


57 


The question came so suddenly that it almost 
staggered Kit ; but he soon made up his mind how 
to answer. 

“ I think it is very pleasant here, sir,” he said, 
“but 'I don’t believe in changing. I have a good 
start on the ship, and don’t think I ought to leave 
it ; but I am very much obliged to you, sir, for the 
offer.” 

When he went out in the morning, he saw that the 
Gulf was almost white ; partly with foam, and partly 
from the white sand that was stirred up from the bot- 
tom. Tremendous seas were breaking over the mole, 
and great sheets of spray were flying over several of 
the warehouses. 

The norther prophets were right in saying that 
the norther would last for three days. Every night 
Kit went home with Mr. Ysnard, but without meet- 
ing his wife, as she was an invalid and seldom left, 
her room. On the fourth day the dark clouds 
drifted gradually away, the wind lulled, and the 
tropical sun shone hot again. About noon he was 
delighted to see the North Cape steam back to her 
old place and drop her anchor. 

“ But you’ll not get out to her for a day or two 
yet,” Mr. Ysnard told him ; “no small boat could go 
out till this heavy sea subsides. I am going into the 
country in a few minutes to see how much my plan- 
tations have suffered, and if you like, you can go 
along and learn something about this hemp you are 
going to be loaded with.” 


58 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


The carriage came early that day, and they were 
soon driving between broad fields of cactus plants. 

“ That’s the stuff,” Mr. Ysnard told him; “ it is the 
leaves of this cactus that yield the hemp. You see 
some of the leaves are six feet long and four or five 
inches broad. We cut off the leaves and soak them 
in water, then run them through a machine that 
extracts the fibre. That fibre is the hemp. Another 
machine cleans and straightens it, and we dry it and 
press it into bales, and it is ready to go north to be 
made into ropes and matting. Now you know some- 
thing about the cargo you are to carry. 

“ But you have no idea,” he continued, “ of the 
condition of the workmen who raise this hemp. We 
call them peons, and on most of the plantations they 
are little better than slaves, though I am glad to say 
that it is not so on mine. In this country a peon 
cannot leave the land he belongs on while he is in 
debt to his master ; and as they earn only about 
twelve and one-half cents a day they are always in 
debt. A son is responsible also for his father’s debts, 
so they are practically slaves, with no chance of ever 
freeing themselves. It is a terrible system.” 

“ Your plants do not seem to have suffered much 
from the wind, sir,” said Kit ; “ maybe it is because 
you treat your men better.” 

“Well,” Mr. Ysnard laughed, “there. is no great 
merit in that. They do better work for me because 
1 treat them well, and it pays better in the end. 
Slave labor is always the poorest.” 


A NORTHER ON THE GULF. 


59 


The next day the lighters ventured out again, and 
there was more work for Kit on the mole. Then 
when the cargo was all landed the loading began, 
and he was kept on deck to keep tally of the number 
of bales received. That took six full da}^s, and still 
there was no sign of the mail steamer returning. 

“ The storm must have delayed her,” Captain 
Griffith said. “ No use to send letters home now ; for 
she has to touch at Havana, and we go direct, and 
we’ll beat her up. We’ll be off to-morrow.” 

Kit asked and received permission to go ashore to 
say good-by to the agent who had been so hospitable 
to him. He had spent so much time in the little 
town that it almost seemed like leaving home again. 
Mr. Ysnard shook his hand warmly at parting. 

“I have enjoyed having you here,” he said. “I 
like to see a bright, faithful young chap like you. 
Our young Mexicans are slow coaches beside you 
American boys. I was going to send you out a 
barrel of Mexican fruit that I had put up for you, 
so I’ll have it put in your boat. Keep pulling, my 
boy, and some day you may be down here in a better 
position than cabin boy.” 

Kit tried to think it over as he returned to the 
ship, but he could not explain to himself what he 
had done to make Mr. Ysnard take such an interest 
in him. There was something about him, he could 
not help seeing, that pleased both the Captain and 
the agent ; and he was glad of it, though he did not 
know what it was. 


6o 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


When the ship passed the Sandy Hook signal sta- 
tion, eight days later, the flags tl^at she set told the 
brief story of the homeward voyage. 

“ North Cape” they said, “ eight days from Sisal, 
with hemp. Smooth passage.” 

And when a few hours afterwards she lay at her 
old place in front of Martin’s Stores, her bow almost 
rubbed against the stern of a little tug. 

“Why, that’s the Triton /” Kit said to himself, 
when he saw the tug’s name. “ That’s Captain 
Judson’s boat, from Bridgeport, and Captain Judson 
is our near neighbor in Huntington. If he is going 
back, maybe he will take my barrel of fruit up to 
Bridgeport.” 

“ Yes, going back to-night,” Captain Judson said, 
when Kit found him. “ I towed a yacht down yester- 
day. Take up a barrel of fruit for you ? Aye, that I 
will, lad — and take you too, if you can get off. I 
know somebody up there wlio’d be glad to see you. 
Eh, my boy ? ” 

Take him too ! That was something that Kit 
had not thought of ; but what a surprise it would be 
for the folks at home to see him come walking in ! 
Within five minutes he had seen Captain Griffith and 
had readily been granted a week’s leave of absence. 


CHAPTER IV. 


KIT S CONNECTICUT HOME. 



IHE Huntington stage was the same old weather- 


-J- beaten stage that Kit had left a month before, 
but its wheels were gone. Fairfield County, all the 
way from Bridgeport back to Huntington and be- 
yond, was white with snow, and the frozen roads 
were packed hard. The body of the stage had been 
lifted from its wheels and put on runners, and the 
bells on its two gaunt horses jingled merrily through 
the Bridgeport streets and over the Connecticut hills. 

“ My folks all well, Silas ? ” was the first question 
that Kit asked when he found the stage nearly ready 
to start. 

“ They was right peart when I come down this 
mornin’,” the driver replied, “so I guess they hain’t 
gone into a decline since. Sakes alive, but won’t 
they be surprised to see you, though ! They was 
lookin’ for a letter. But what’s this, Kit? No 
overcoat ! Here, wrap this hoss blanket ’round you 
snug.” 

“ Oh, you don’t know how good the cold feels, 
Silas,” Kit laughed, though he was glad enough to 
accept the blanket. “ I’ve just come from a country 


62 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


where the sun burns like a hot iron, and the trees 
were full of fruit, ten days ago.” 

Involuntarily he looked around to see that his 
barrel was safe. 

“ Now don’t you give yourself no consarn ’bout 
that tliar bar’l ! ” the driver exclaimed. “ When 
Silas lashes a bar’l on behind his sleigh, you can 
just make up your mind it’s thar to stay. While 
you youngsters goes out an’ sees the world, old Silas 
he stays to hum an’ ’tends to business, an’ carries 
your letters back to Hunt’n’ton.” 

The only other passenger was Henry Steele, the 
Huntington shoemaker, who had been down to 
Bridgeport to buy leather, and had it in a big roll 
beside his feet ; and he and the driver plied Kit with 
so many questions about his travels that he was kept 
busy answering. 

“ What was you aboard this North Cape f ” Silas 
asked. 

Kit felt for a moment that considering the work 
he had been doing he was entitled to lay claim to 
some higher position than the one he really occupied ; 
but he soon smothered that down. 

“ Cabin boy,” he - ' answered ; and added to himself, 
“ There’s no use of a fellow being ashamed of a good 
honest job, and one that he likes.” 

“ And you got good and seasick at the start, I’ll 
warrant ! ” Mr. Steele laughed. 

“No, sir, I wasn’t sick a single minute on the 
whole voyage,” Kit answered. 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 


63 


“ Well, Kit,” said the shoemaker, “ if some boys 
were to tell me that, I’d think they were drawing 
the long bow. But I’ve known you since you were 
knee-high to a grasshopper, and I must say I’ve 
never known you to speak anything but the truth.” 

“ Th-th-thank you ! ” Kit tried to say it with 
a laugh, but the laugh turned into a shiver. It was 
all very well to feel at home in the cold, but there 
were some holes in the horse blanket. And he was 
growing impatient to see the familiar faces. He 
had not felt so down in Yucatan, because there he 
knew it was impossible ; but now that every minute 
took him nearer, the minutes became dreadfully long. 

Manly young sailor as he was, his heart beat faster 
as the stage drew into the outskirts of Huntington 
— if so small a place can be said to have outskirts. 
He had had already a glimpse of the white church 
steeple from a distant hilltop. And now there was 
the church itself ! And he could have told with his 
eyes shut just how the land lay opposite the church. 
First there was a little store, with some empty bar- 
rels and boxes always in front. Then there was Dr. 
Thomas’s big white house, with the white fence in 
front. And then came a small house a story and a 
half high, with a light piazza across the front, stand- 
ing about thirty feet back from the street, with a 
weather-beaten picket fence in front, and some big 
trees on each side extending their thick limbs over 
its mossy roof. House and fence had once been 
brown, but both were sadly in need of paint, and 


6 4 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


one end of the cornice was coining loose. But in 
Kit’s eyes, that was the cosiest place of all ; for that 
was home ! 

There were no tracks in the deep snow between 
the road and the walk in front of the house, and 
when Silas guided the horses in toward the sidewalk 
they sank halfway to their knees. Then Kit un- 
wrapped his blanket and sprang out. Some one in 
the front room of the house saw the stage stop, and 
that was a matter to be inquired into. All the 
neighbors take an interest in it when the Hunting- 
ton stage stops in front of a house. The door 
opened, and a rosy-cheeked young girl of about four- 
teen looked out. 

“ Hello, Vieve ! ” Kit cried, waving his hand to 
her. A tropical hurricane could not have made his 
heart jump like that. 

The girl paused long enough to cry out : — 

“ Mother ! Mother ! Quick ! Here’s Kit ! ” 

And the next moment she was down the walk, and 
the sailor boy was smothered with hugs and kisses 
in a way that made old Silas and the shoemaker feel 
quite young again, and Turk was barking a noisy 
welcome. In another minute Mrs. Silburn joined 
them, and all the hugging was repeated. 

“ Now don’t trouble yourself about the bar’l,” 
Silas insisted when Kit at length made his way back 
to the stage. “ ’Taint no weight at all ; ” and he 
took it by the rims and carried it to the piazza, then 
rolled it into the house. 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 


65 


“ I’ve brought you something better than the let- 
ter you was lookin’ for, Mrs. Silburn,” he said, as he 
returned to the stage. 

But Mrs. Silburn hardly heard. She had eyes 
only for Kit, ears only for what he said. 

“ You’re not sick, Kit, that you’ve come home ? ” 
she asked, when the three were in the sitting-room 
together. “ No/’ she added, “ I need hardly ask that ; 
I never saw you look better. Why, you’re as brown 
as an Indian.” 

“ Never was ‘ weller ’ in my life,” Kit answered as 
well as he could, for his mother was holding fast to 
him while Vieve was trying to drag him up to the 
stove to warm him. “ A week’s leave of absence, 
that’s all, while the ship discharges cargo.” 

“ Oh, a whole week ! ” Yieve cried, jumping around 
him in her glee. “ That’s the reason you’ve brought 
your baggage ! ” and she glanced toward the barrel. 

“ Did he bring that in here ? ” Kit asked. “ That 
won’t do. It came from a hot place, but it must 
stay in the cool up here. Have you got a cool room 
we can put it in ? ” 

“ I think you’ll find all the other side of the house 
cool enough,” Mrs. Silburn laughed. “We don’t 
keep any fires across the hall now; it saves both 
wood and trouble.” 

Kit rolled the barrel across the hall into the cold 
parlor, and hurried back to the stove. But he could 
not stay in one place long — not for the first hour or 
two. He had to go to the windows to see how the 


66 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


yard looked, and into the kitchen to look at the 
familiar pans hanging against the wall, and up- 
stairs to the little room with the sloping ceiling 
where he had slept so many years. When he came 
down again, Vieve was putting on her hat and coat. 

“Say, avast there, now,” he cried; “you’ll have to 
take another tack. (I suppose you’ll expect me to 
talk sea talk, now I’m a sailor.) I know what you’re 
after, Vieve, and it won’t do. No going out to buy 
more things for supper. I’m not the prodigal calf, 
you know — the prodigal son, I mean. Whatever 
you were going to have for your own suppers is just 
what I want.” 

“Just put yourself in that chair, Mr. Silburn,” 
Vieve laughed, pointing to her father’s armchair, 
that she had drawn up to the fire for him, “ and 
don’t begin to interfere so soon ; ” and she was gone 
before he could stop her. And Mrs. Silburn brought 
her husband’s slippers, that were carefully laid away, 
and would have untied Kit’s shoes if he had let her. 

“ You’ve had a hard time of it, Kit,” she said, 
“ and we must make you comfortable at home.” 

“ Indeed, I’ve not, mother,” he answered ; “ you 
mustn’t spoil me on that account. I’ve had a splen- 
did time, and enjoyed every minute. I’ve made 
some good friends, too, since I went away.” 

“ I’m sure you would do that, Kit,” she answered, 
her face full of motherly pride. “ And you’ve grown 
so, too ! ” 

It was not long before supper was ready, for Vieve 


KIT’S CONNECTICUT HOME. 67 

was both cook and errand girl while her mother was 
busy sewing. 

“ You’ll not mind eating in the kitchen, Kit?” 
his mother asked. “We eat there now, while we’re 
alone.” 

“ Mind it ! ” Kit exclaimed ; “ it’s just what I 
wanted to do. Oh, look here, Yieve ! ” he went on, 
as he took his mother by the arm and led her into 
the kitchen, “ have you cooked all these things so 
quick ? Beefsteak, and fried potatoes, and ham and 
eggs, and coffee ? Why, we ought to have you for 
cook aboard ship.” 

“ Ah, you don’t know how good it all tastes ! ” he 
declared, when they had set to work at the eatables. 
“ We have good fare on the ship, first rate; but it’s 
not like home. No such coffee as this, I tell you. 
Coffee is always bad at sea, they say.” 

“ And do you have to eat out of a little mess pan, 
like the other sailors ? ” Yieve asked. 

“Do I ! ” Kit laughed. “I guess you don’t know 
what a dignified position your big brother holds, my 
child. Why, I eat in the cabin, with silver forks 
and spoons, and a monogram on all the dishes. 
And in the evening I sit at the Captain’s desk and 
do my writing.” 

“ Oh, Kit ! ” Mrs. Silburn expostulated. She was not 
quite sure whether he was joking with them or not. 

“ It’s a fact,” he answered, laughing to think how 
grand he could make everything appear if he felt 
inclined to boast. “ And I wash the dishes after- 


68 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


wards, and clean the spoons ; but that part we don’t 
speak of in polite society.” 

They were done eating, but still busy talking, 
when Yieve suddenly asked : — 

“ What’s in that barrel, Kit ? ” 

“ Ah, Miss Curiosity!” he laughed. “ You’re the 
same old Yieve, ain’t you ? I suppose that’s the way 
your relation Eve prodded poor Adam on to his ruin. 
But to tell you the truth, Yieve, I don’t exactly know 
what’s in it myself. Suppose I bring it in and we 
find out.” 

No sooner said than done ; the barrel was rolled in, 
and Yieve had the hammer and chisel ready. 

“ Now shut all the doors, Vieve,” he said, as he 
unfastened the head ; “ if it should be anything alive, 
it might get away.” 

Yieve hastened to obey, but seeing him laughing 
at her, she threw them open again. 

When the head was raised from the barrel, the 
room was instantly filled with ^ a delightful tropical 
aroma that was familiar enough to Kit, but that is 
seldom found in a house in Huntington. 

“ Just crush these in your hands, and then smell 
them,” lie said to both, taking up a handful of the 
fragrant lemon leaves with which the top of the 
barrel was covered ; and they thought they had never 
smelled anything so sweet. 

When he brushed the leaves aside, he found more 
than half a bushel of lemons, limes, and oranges. 
Then a little partition nailed in, and beneath it a 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 69 * 

great assortment of southern fruits — sugar apples, 
loquats, sappadillos, sour sops, jelly cocoanuts, tama- 
rinds, guavas, and bananas. Then another partition, 
and beneath that a dozen of the largest and finest 
pineapples he had ever seen. By the time the barrel 
was emptied, every table and chair in the kitchen was 
covered with luscious fruit. 

“ Where in the world did you get all these things, 
Kit ? ” his mother asked. 

“ A present from one of my friends in Yucatan,” 
he replied ; and then he had to tell all about Mr. 
Ysnard and how kind he had been. While he talked 
he was busy gathering up the fruit and laying it oji 
the pantry shelves, where it would neither freeze nor 
be too warm, and Yieve and her mother fell to and 
washed the dishes. 

“ We’ll try one of these pineapples in the sitting- 
room,” he said ; and he took a sharp knife and began 
to pare oft the rough outer skin. “I want you to 
taste a real pine fresh from the orchard. They’re 
very different from the hard little things we buy 
here.” When it was peeled he took two forks and 
tore it apart into small pieces, as he had been taught 
on the ship ; and around the sitting-room stove they 
were all agreed that no better or sweeter fruit could 
be grown. 

But alas for Kit’s intentions to tell all his advent- 
ures that evening ! He had had little sleep on the 
tug, and before the pineapple was finished, he caught 
himself nodding several times. 


70 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ There’s no use talking,” he laughed ; “ I’ve got 
to go to bed. The wonderful adventures and hair- 
breadth escapes of Christopher Silburn, Esq., will 
keep for another time. I guess I’m in a hurry to 
feel my old bed.” 

And before many minutes he was sound asleep in 
it, to know * no more of ships, or tropics, or home, 
till he sprang up in the morning, thinking that he 
must hurry to clean the cabin. 

Breakfast was hardly over before Harry Leonard, 
one of Kit’s old chums, called to see him ; for by 
that time it was known all over Huntington that 
Kit was home. Harry was a good companion in 
every respect but one : the boys called him the big- 
gest boaster in Fairfield County. 

“ I’m thinking of going to sea myself,” he said, 
after they had talked a few minutes. “ I know 
where I can get a berth as second mate of a bark, 
after I’ve made a voyage or two. What do you do 
on the North Cajoe, Kit ? ” 

“I’m assistant to the Captain,” Kit answered, with 
a sly wink at Vieve ; “ I write out the manifests and 
such things. He and I were the only ones who went 
ashore, and I spent several days with our agent in 
Sisal. I want you to try an orange out of the barrel of 
fruit the agent sent .out to the ship for me. Oh, yes, 
I have to be back in five days more. I don’t know 
who’d make out all the papers if I didn’t get there.” 

With Vieve hiding her face and shaking, it was 
hard for Kit to keep from laughing, but he did. 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 


7 1 


“ Didn’t I give him a dose?” he roared, after 
Harry was gone. “ He’s such an awful bragger I 
thought I’d pay him in his own coin. But isn’t it 
funny how you can change things by telling only one 
side of a story. Everything I said was true, only I 
didn’t tell it all.” 

That afternoon Kit was out in the snow with a 
ladder and hammer and nails, fastening the end of 
the cornice that was loose ; and before dark he had 
mended the shaky front gate, and replaced some 
missing pickets, and put a new hinge on the kitchen 
door. 

“ I’m not going to let you work so when you come 
home for a little holiday, Kit,” his mother said in the 
evening when they were sitting around the fire again. 
“ You must rest.” 

“ Oh, that’s nothing at all,” Kit retorted. “ I 
want the place to look shipshape for a particular 
reason. Somebody may be coming home one of 
these days, and he must find everything in good 
order. I know you don’t like to talk about that, 
mother, but it has to be talked about sometimes. 
As long as there is the least chance, we must not lose 
hope ; and both Captain Griffith and Mr. Ysnard 
think there is still a possibility of father’s being 
alive. Of course it is a very slight chance, but still 
it is a chance, and we must not give up.” 

“ Oh, Kit, I am so glad to hear you say so ! ” 
Vieve exclaimed. “ You know that’s what I have 
always said. And your Captain thinks so too ! ” 


72 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ All, don’t deceive yourselves, children,” Mrs. Sil- 
burn sighed. “ How could your father be alive 
without coming home or even sending us word for 
nearly a year? And we know that his ship was 
lost.” 

“ Yes, there is no doubt his ship was lost, mother,” 
Kit admitted, “ but still there are many things that 
may have happened through which he may be alive 
and yet not be able to get home, or even to write 
to us. Mr. Ysnard has a friend whose ship was 
lost at sea, but who got home more than two years 
after he had been given up. They took to the boats, 
of course, and all the boats were swamped but the 
one he was in. That one was picked up by a Nor- 
wegian brig bound for Honolulu. When they got 
into the Pacific, after going around Cape Horn, the 
brig was wrecked also, and the crew got to one of 
the little desert islands in the Pacific where ships 
never touch. They were there over a year before 
they got away. And there was an ending to that 
that won’t be likely to happen in our case. When 
the man got home, he found his ‘ widow ’ just about 
to be married to some other man.” 

“ No, I don’t think that will happen in our case ! ” 
Mrs. Silburn said, smiling in spite of herself. “ Such 
remarkable escapes happen sometimes at sea, but we 
have no right to expect them. You may as well 
make up your mind that you will have to be the 
head of the family, Kit.” 

“ A poor head at present, I am afraid,” Kit an- 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 


73 


swered. “ But I think the day will come when I 
shall be able to take care of you both, if father 
doesn’t come back. That’s what I am planning for, 
at any rate. It’s not much of a position to be a 
cabin boy, but I expect to have a better one some 
day. It sha’n’t be my fault if I don’t. If I can 
show them that I am fit for a better place, I think 
I will get it in time. But' even now I can do a 
little bit toward helping things along ; I nearly for- 
got that part of the business.” 

He put his hand in his pocket and took out some 
money, and laid a bright new two-dollar note in 
Genevieve’s lap. 

“ You know the dollar’s worth of stamps you sent 
me, Yieve. I was awfully glad to get them, too, for 
I felt pretty poor just then. So there’s the dollar, 
with a- little interest added.” 

He had not the heart to tell her that he had been 
robbed of the stamps. In all his accounts of his 
adventures he had not said a word about the hard- 
ships he had gone through. When he told about 
how nearly he had been arrested, it was only to 
turn it into a joke. 

“No, I don’t want it, Kit,” Yieve protested, trying 
to hand him back the note. “ I sent you that for a 
present.” 

“ No back talk to the head of the family, miss ! ” 
he laughed, giving his sister’s wavy hair a playful 
pull. “And here’s a little for you, mother. I can 
leave you only three dollars this time, as it will cost 


74 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


me a dollar to get back to the ship. But I hope 
before long to do better than that. If I could only 
make a little more money, I’d like to have some 
paint put on the house.” 

“ I’m not going to touch a cent of it,” Mrs. Silburn 
declared. “ I don’t need it, but you do. I want you 
to buy a cheap overcoat with that money ; you can’t 
be going about in winter without an overcoat.” 

“ I don’t need one,” Kit protested. “ I tried on 
my old one up in my room this morning, and it fits 
first rate. It’s plenty good enough till I get in with 
the ‘Four Hundred’ in New York, and none of the 
Vanderbilts or Astors have invited me to dinner so 
far. But I don’t need an overcoat at all unless we 
go to some cold country next voyage.” 

“ And where do you expect to go next time ? ” 
Vieve interrupted. 

“ There’s no telling,” Kit answered ; “ it just de- 
pends upon who charters the ship. We might go to 
China, or to Australia, or Bombay, or most any sea- 
port in the world. Maybe it will be back to Sisal, 
for all I know. Even the Captain did not know, 
when I left.” 

Kit had his own way about the money in the 
end, and made his mother accept the three dollars. 

“ I’d be a nice head of a family if I couldn’t leave 
you any money!” he argued. “You know I have 
no expenses like other fellows ; and if I should need 
money at any time I could draw against my wages. 
The sailors nearly all do that ; indeed, they have 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 


75 


generally spent their pay for the voyage before they 
start, so they have to work to pay the 

He was acting very much like the head of the 
family when he looked over the old house one morn- 
ing and announced that he thought it could be made 
very comfortable for them as soon as he had more 
money. 

“ I like the arrangement of it,” he said ; “ this 
sitting-room in front with the kitchen behind it is 
very handy. Then the parlor across the hall and 
your bedroom behind that is very handy, too. When 
father comes back, Yieve can take the other room 
upstairs/’ 

“ Oh, it’s a shame to let you work so hard just to 
make us comfortable!” Vieve exclaimed. “ Other 
boys have such good times with their skating and 
swimming and football and such things. I’m going 
to work myself just as soon as I get a chance.” 

“ I hope you will,” Kit laughed. “ Go to school 
and work there just as hard as you can. If mother 
hadn’t made me go to school and attend to my 
lessons, I’d be just an ordinary cabin boy now. I 
mean,” he explained, blushing a little at the way he 
had put it, “ I shouldn’t be able to copy manifests 
for the Captain, or do a supercargo’s work for him 
on shore. We don’t see at the time how much good 
study does us, but I tell you we see it afterward, 
Yieve. And skating and football and such things ! 
Pshaw, don’t you think I got enough of them when 
I was at home ? When a fellow gets to my age ” 


;6 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


(and he drew himself up a little taller, which made 
Vieve smile), “he has other things to think of. I 
want to push myself ahead, Vieve, and earn enough 
to take care of you both. And swimming, did you 
say ? Who do you think has a better chance for 
swimming than a sailor when his ship is in port? 
Oh, you needn’t sympathize with me, my child. I’d 
rather go off and see foreign countries than play 
football.” 

On Sunday morning he and Vieve went together 
to the old white church across the broad street, 
“just like old times,” as they said ; and after Sun- 
day school he had to explain to a score of friends 
where he had been and what he had been doing. 
His boy friends, he noticed, did not seem to think 
it any hardship to go to sea in a fine steamship ; 
most of them would have jumped at the chance to 
go with him. 

A whole week seemed so long when he left the 
North Cape to go home ! And it seemed so short 
when the last day came! But the stage was coming 
down the hill, and Kit had his old overcoat on, 
which was a trifle short, but very warm. And 
under his arm was a little bundle of shirts and 
things that his mother had made for him. 

“ I may have a chance to get home after the 
next voyage,” he said, when they were half smother- 
ing him with good-bys in the cold hall, “ and I may 
be gone for six months ; there’s no telling. But 
I’ll write whenever I can, you may be sure, and 


KIT'S CONNECTICUT HOME. 


77 


tell you where to send letters. Turk, you’re paw- 
ing me all to pieces, old fellow. Good-by, Vieve ; 
good-by, mother. I’d keep father’s chair and things 
ready for him, if I were you, for he might walk 
in most any day. Good-by, Turk. He knows I’m 
going away, doesn’t he ?” 

In a minute more he was in the stage, his mother 
waving to him from the door, Vieve throwing kisses 
to him from the gate, and Turk jumping in the 
snow, barking furiously. 

“ That’s a pretty little sister you’ve got,” said 
Silas, when a turn in the road hid the old house 
from sight. 

“ I’m glad you think so,” Kit laughed, “for every- 
body says she is the image of me !” 

He was not the first boy who has tried to laugh 
on leaving home, to conceal very different feelings. 


CHAPTER V. 


A BURGLAR IN TIIE CABIN. 

H, this is ahead of being a cabin passenger on 



V_y one of the big liners ! ” Kit said to himself, 
as he hurried through the brick tunnel that led 
to the wharf of Martin’s Stores. Ci The passenger 
knows where lie’s going, so he doesn’t have the fun 
of wondering. But I don’t know. Maybe the ship 
has been chartered for China while I’ve been away ; 
or it might be for Russia, to carry grain. There’s no 
seaport in the world that we mightn’t go to. I 
think one will suit me just about as well as another, 
though I’d rather like to cross the ocean.” . 

Tom Haines was one of the first men he met on 
deck. 

u Well, have you made up your mind where you’re 
going to take the yacht to this voyage ? ” Kit asked, 
as they shook hands. 

“ Don’t call her a yacht ! ” Tom laughed. “ We’d 
have too many big bills to pay if she was our yacht. 
It’s better as it is : we get a salary and a sea-voyage 
at the same time. Yes, we’re chartered for Nassau 
this trip, to bring back pineapples and sponges ; and 
we’ll be off in four or five days.” 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 


79 


“ For Nassau ! ” Kit repeated ; “ why, that’s — ” 
but there he stopped. 

“ That’s right/’ Tom said, still laughing. “ Stick 
to your old rule and never say you don’t know 
a thing, but go and find it out. I know what you’re 
thinking about. You want to go down in the cabin 
and look at the map to see where Nassau is. But 
I’ll save you the trouble. It’s the capital of the 
Bahama Islands, in the northern West Indies, and 
about a thousand miles from New York ; so that 
will make a short voyage. But there’s more news 
for you : you have a new cabin steward.” 

“ No ! ” Kit answered, not at all sorry to hear it. 
“ Where’s the old steward ? ” 

“ I should think in Bellevue Hospital by this 
time,” Tom replied, “unless lie’s reformed. He got 
on a terrible sjiree and fell to breaking the crockery, 
so the Captain sent him oif in a hurry. The new 
man is a Scotchman named MacNish, and that’s all I 
can tell you about him. There’s a new galley boy, 
too ; but that doesn’t count for much.” 

“ Not to you,” Kit declared, “ but it does to me, 
because now I’m not the newest hand on the ship. 
But I must go down and report myself.” 

He did not see the new steward, who was at work 
in the pantry; but Captain Griffith called him into 
his stateroom. 

“ I am glad you are back promptly,” he said, “ for 
to-morrow we begin taking in cargo for Nassau, and 
I want you to keep tally as it comes on board. It is 


8o 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


not exactly cabin boy’s work, but you do it carefully, 
and it is good experience for you.” 

“ I am only too glad to do it, sir,” Kit answered. 
“ I want to make myself useful.” 

“ I thought of raising your pay two or three dol- 
lars a month for this extra work,” the Captain went 
on, “but I have concluded not to do it at present. 
I don’t want to make a pet of you ; it’s better that 
you should work your way gradually like other peo- 
ple. You can go to the steward now and see whether 
he lias anything for you to do.” 

There was nothing to be done at the moment, for 
the new steward had everything in order. Kit had 
never seen the pantry so clean, nor the cabin brass- 
work. so well polished. Mr. MacNish was apparently 
about forty years old, a plump man of medium height, 
his florid round face smooth except for a little tuft of 
iron-gray whiskers under each ear. 

“ Looks more like an Englishman than a Scotch- 
man,” Kit said to himself ; and his accent certainly 
was more English than Scotch ; but his manner was 
much pleasanter than the other steward’s, and he 
used so many biblical quotations when he talked that 
Kit thought he must be a very devout man. 

For the next four days the cabin boy was busy 
keeping tally of the general cargo as it came aboard, 
and after the same performance as before of anchor- 
ing by the Liberty statue and the Captain coming out 
in a tug, the North Cape got under way for Nassau. 
There was not much to be seen of the New Jersey 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 8 1 

coast this time, for she stood out to the south- 
eastward all the first night, and in two days and a 
half crossed the Gulf Stream and ran into warmer 
weather. And every day Kit thought more and 
more of the new steward. He was so kind and gen- 
tle, so willing to do things himself rather than give 
Kit trouble, so neat and industrious, and above all so 
pious in his conversation, that it worried the cabin 
boy to see that Captain Griffith treated him rather 
abruptly, as if he did not care much for him. 

u Was that a little Bible I saw you have last night, 
my boy ? ” Mr. MacNish asked Kit one morning. 
“ Ah, I thought so. I like to see boys read their 
Bible. And maybe you’d lend it to me sometimes. 
Mine must have been stolen, I’m afraid, for I always 
carry it in my satchel. Oh, it’s a great comfort, lad, 
in times of trouble. My good old father ” (his voice 
grew a little husky) “ taught me to read my chapter 
every day, and I don’t like to miss it. I hope to see 
the day when we’ll have morning and evening ser- 
vice on every ship afloat.” 

On the sixth day after leaving New York they 
sighted Nassau, and Kit was delighted with the 
appearance of the place from the water. The big 
square stone houses, with their upper and lower bal- 
conies enclosed with green Venetian blinds; the red 
tiled roofs, white streets running up a steep hill, palm 
trees waving gracefully over many of the roofs, old 
forts, half in ruins, to the right and left of the town, 
and the warm summer weather in midwinter, made 


82 


THE YOUNG S UPER CARGO. 


it seem like a little fairy-land. But these things had 
to be seen from a distance, for the North Cape drew 
too much water to cross the bar. She anchored out- 
side, half a mile from the town, close under the long 
narrow strip of rock called Hog Island, where she 
was exposed to the north wind and would have to 
hoist anchor and put to sea if a gale came. 

By the next day the lighters were ready, for the 
cargo had to be landed in lighters as it had been in 
Sisal, though the distance was not as great, and Kit 
was set ashore early to check off every package as it 
was put on the wharf. He was no beginner at this 
work now, and as the people spoke English he found 
it much easier than at Sisal, though the boatmen 
and ’longshoremen were all negroes, and spoke a 
mixed jargon of Congo African and Colonial English 
that was sometimes almost as hard to understand as 
the Spanish. The day was intensely hot, and there 
was no tree or building on the wharf to give him 
shelter, and the lighters arrived so fast that he not 
only had no chance to see anything of the city, but 
had not even time to stop for dinner. 

The only break in the long day was when the mail 
steamer, the Santiago , arrived from New York. She 
also was too large to cross the bar, and a little tug 
went out to her and carried her passengers and mails 
ashore. 

When the day’s work was over, Kit was quite 
ready to return to the ship and eat his supper ; but 
while they were washing dishes the steward proposed 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN 83 

that they should get permission and spend the even- 
ing on shore. 

u I feel so lost without the Holy Scriptures I 
brought from home/’ he said, “ and the precious 
hymn book I used when I was younger than you 
are. Ah, how many times they have made my 
heart light when it was sore with trouble. I can 
buy new ones on shore, but they’ll not be like the 
ones I used so long. And I want to mail a letter to 
my dear old father. I think the Captain would let 
us go if you were to ask him.” 

Kit was rapidly gaining experience of the world, 
but he still had a great deal to learn about the 
people who live in it. That there are men who try to 
hide their wickedness under a cloak of deep piety he 
had no suspicion. It was very nice in the new stew- 
ard, he thought, to take the first opportunity to replace 
his lost Bible and mail a letter to his aged father ; 
and though he felt more like going to bed, he went 
to the Captain and readily got permission for them 
both to go ashore, without the least suspicion that 
the steward would much have preferred to go alone, 
but was using him as a cat’s-paw because the Captain 
would be more likely to oblige him. 

They were taken to the landing-steps in the gig, 
with the understanding that the boat would return 
for them at half-past ten, Mr. MacNish carrying along 
a small leather satchel, strongly mounted with brass, 
that looked quite luxurious for the steward of a 
tramp steamship. 


8 4 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ I want to make a few trifling purchases/’ he 
explained, “ and this will be handy to carry them 
aboard in. Perhaps I can’t find what I want, but 
I’ll not worry over it ; ‘ sufficient unto the day is the 
evil thereof.’ ” 

As they climbed up the slippery stone steps Kit 
noticed two men who looked like Americans sitting 
on a bench in the little park, and imagined that they 
looked very hard and sharp at him and his compan- 
ion. And he saw that the steward noticed them 
too ; indeed there was little that Mr. MacNish did 
not notice, now that they were ashore. He looked 
around as if there might be highwaymen behind the 
trees, and clutched his satchel a little tighter, though 
it was too dark for him to see the men distinctly. 

When they crossed the small park they were in 
Bay Street, the main business street of the place ; 
and they had not gone far before they were in front 
of a dingy saloon, with doors standing wide open. 

“ I feel the chill of the night air,” Mr. MacNish 
said, stopping before the door, “ and it is dangerous 
to be chilled in the tropics. Let us go in and get 
something to warm us.” 

“ 1 am warm enough, thank you,” Kit answered ; 
“ I don’t care for anything.” 

“ You know the apostle advises us to take a little 
wine for the stomach’s sake,” the steward urged. 

“My stomach’s all right!” Kit laughed. “I 
suppose they didn’t have any quinine in those days ; 
quinine’s much better.” 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 


85 


“ Then hold my satchel till I come out,” the stew- 
ard said, putting it in Kit’s hands ; and a minute 
later he stood in front of the bar, pouring out a 
tumblerful of something that looked stronger than 
wine. 

While the steward was in the saloon, the two men 
who had been sitting in the park passed by on the 
other side of the street, and Kit noticed again that 
they were looking sharply at him and at Mr. Mac- 
Nish. He was positive now that they were watched, 
and it startled him ; hut he was relieved to see that 
the two men paused and exchanged a few words 
with a Nassau policeman a little further up the 
street. They could hardly be highwaymen, he 
thought, if they were known to the police. When Mr. 
MacNish came out of the saloon he spoke about them. 
. “ Two men who look like Americans seem to be 
taking a great interest in us,” he said. “ They 
watched us pretty closely when we landed, and they 
just walked past here, looking at us again.” 

“ What’s that ! ” MacNish exclaimed ; “ two men ! 
What did they look like ? ” 

Kit wondered that such a trifling thing should 
excite him so much, but he described the men as well 
as he could. 

“ Oh, it’s nothing,” MacNish said, though his man- 
ner belied his words. “ You just imagine it. Here, 
we’ll turn up this way toward the hill ; I think the 
stores are better in the street above. You carry the 
satchel for me a bit, my lad.” 


86 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


They turned into a dark side street, and were no 
sooner around the corner than the steward quickened 
the pace almost to a run. His manner was so 
changed that Kit for the first time became suspicious, 
and thought that he had better have nothing to do 
with the satchel. 

“ Here, you take your satchel, Mr. MacNish,” he 
said ; “ I can keep up with you better if I have noth- 
ing to carry. We don’t need to hurry so much, do 
we ? ” 

MacNish snatched the satchel from his hands with- 
out replying, and before they had taken ten steps 
more Kit was almost knocked down by two men who 
sprang out from an alley and seized the steward by 
both arms as if they were used to such work. By 
the dim light from a neighboring shop window Kit 
saw that they were the men who had been in the 
park. 

“Now, then, Slippery Jim, we want you,” one of 
the men said. “ No nonsense, unless you want some 
lead in you.” 

Kit was too much astonished to speak, but the 
steward was equal to the emergency. With a powerful 
jerk he wrenched himself free, and the next moment 
Kit saw the gleam of a revolver in his hand and 
heard a shot fired. It was done so quickly, however, 
that the bullet flew wide ; and the next minute two 
policemen in uniform emerged from the alley, and all 
four men grappled with the desperate steward and 
bore him down. 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 


S7 


His language as he lay struggling on his back on 
the sidewalk was anything but pious; but he sub- 
mitted to the inevitable when the officers put hand- 
cuffs on his wrists and stood him on his feet. 

“ I am afraid you have made a mistake, gentle- 
men,” Kit at length said; “this man is Mr. MacNish, 
steward of the steamship North Cape.” 

“Steward nothing!” one of the men answered, 
contemptuously. “ This man is Slippery Jim, with 
fifty other names, and one of the slickest bank burg- 
lars in the world. He’s the man that tapped the 
North Western bank for a hundred and forty thou- 
sand dollars ten days ago, and I only hope he’s got 
it in that satchel. Steward, indeed ! He’s smart 
enough to turn his hand to anything, and he took 
that way to escape from New York with his booty. 
See here.” 

As he spoke the man took hold of the whiskers on 
both sides of MacNish’s face, and being false ones 
they came off very easily. Then he rubbed his hand- 
kerchief across the steward’s face, and wiped off a big 
patch of the pink stain that had given him a florid 
appearance. 

“We got on his track just after you sailed,” the 
man continued, “ and followed him in the mail 
steamer. We are detectives from New York, and 
you are a lucky boy that we don’t take you in as an 
accomplice.” 

Meanwhile the other stranger had been trying to 
open the satchel. Finding it securely locked, he im- 


88 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


patiently took his knife and cut a long slit in the 
leather and thrust in his hand. 

“ Here we have it ! ” he exclaimed, “or some of it. 
We’ll count it over at the police station.” 

Kit’s eyes bulged when he saw a big handful of 
greenbacks and bonds taken from the satchel ; not 
covetously, but in awe when he thought of the great 
amount of stolen money he had been carrying. 

The steward, seeing that his game had reached an 
end, was inclined to laugh over his experiences on 
the North Cape. 

“ You’ll be wanting a new steward on the ship, 
Spooney,” he laughed, “ for I’ve accepted a steady 
situation on shore. I hope you’ll lend your Bible to 
the next man ; I found it awfully comforting. But 
I guess I’ll not mail that letter to-night to my dear 
old papa ; the old chap was hanged about thirty years 
ago. I kept your blooming cabin in good shape, any- 
how, for a man with a hundred and forty thousand 
dollars in his satchel.” 

It was a relief to Kit when the officers took his 
former companion away. He had heard of such des- 
perate criminals, but had never been face to face with 
one before. He had an hour yet before the boat 
would come, and spent the time walking the streets, 
feeling sick at heart and a little out of patience with 
himself. 

“ I don’t wonder he called me ‘ Spooney/ ” he re- 
flected. “ I ought to have been smart enough to see 
through the man at once, as I think the Captain did, 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 


89 


to some extent. How easily he might have got me 
into a heap of trouble if it had been worth his while ! 
Even a poor boy with nothing to be robbed of, has to 
be careful whom he associates with. So remember 
that in the future, Mr. Kit Silburn ! ” 

The Captain’s only remark, when he returned to 
the ship and told what had happened, put Kit in a 
little better spirits. 

“ So that leaves us without a cabin steward,” the 
Captain said, “ in a small port where we can’t get 
another. I wish I could cut you right straight in 
two, Christopher, for I want you in two places at 
once. As soon as we have the cargo out you must 
act as steward till we get back to New York ; but for 
the present I must have you on shore.” 

“ I think I can manage with the steward’s work, 
sir,” Kit answered ; “ and the cargo ought to be out 
in two or three days now.” 

“ And till then the engineers’ boy must look after 
the cabin too,” the Captain added. 

That night Kit had many things to think of as he 
lay in his berth. Everybody feels a little sheepish 
to be so thoroughly deceived, and he was no excep- 
tion. But there were more important things to con- 
sider than that. It was only a wretched burglar who 
had called him a spooney, and his employer liked him 
well enough to want him in two places at once. Kit 
was a good fellow, but he was human, like the rest 
of us, and that remark of the Captain’s made him 
feel pretty well satisfied with himself. And here was 


go 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


the steward’s place vacant. If he did good work 
there for a week or two, he could get the place per- 
manently, he felt almost sure of that. But did he 
want it? He was not quite sure about that. On 
the one hand it would bring him better pay, and 
on the other hand if he became a steward he proba- 
bly would never get any higher. And after all, 
maybe the Captain would think him too young ; and 
a dozen more ifs and ands, and in the midst of it all 
lie fell asleep. 

For the next week he was the busiest boy in the 
Bahama Islands. As far as possible he set things 
right for the day in the cabin before he went ashore, 
then stood all day in the sun, checking off cargo, and 
was back to the ship again in time to attend to sup- 
per. In the evening he washed the dishes and 
cleaned up the pantry, and turned in early because he 
had to turn out early. In those days it was only by 
good management that he could get ten minutes of 
his own to write a short letter home. 

“ Well, you are a softy ! ” Chock Cheevers said to 
him one morning in the cabin — for it was Chock 
who had to wait on the Captain in Kit’s absence. 
“ Here you’re doing the steward’s work, and the 
cabin boy’s, and the supercargo’s, all for six dollars 
a month. I’d strike for double pay, anyhow, if I was 
you. I’m going to strike, myself, pretty soon if this 
double work keeps on.” 

“My child,” Kit laughed (he hardly noticed it 
himself, but he always spoke to the mess-room boy 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 


9 


now as if he were indeed the supercargo, instead of 
only the cabin boy), “ if I had time I would tell you 
how many millions strikes cost every year without 
doing any good, for I read it one day in an old news- 
paper. But I haven’t time ; the boat is waiting for 
me. You do the striking, and I’ll do the working. 
The fellows who work don’t generally need to strike. 
Besides, I like to do it.” 

That evening Captain Griffith called Kit into his 
stateroom when his work in the pantry was done. 

“ I want you to make me out a complete list of 
everything that has been landed so far,” he said, “ so 
that the agent ashore can receipt for the goods. I 
suppose you see by this time something of what a 
supercargo’s work is on board ship.” 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered ; “ he has to see that the 
whole cargo is taken out and landed, and receipted 
for by the agent.” 

“ Yes, that and much more,” the Captain continued. 
“ He is the agent on board of the parties that char- 
ter the ship, and must look after their interests in 
every way. He is not an employee of the ship, but 
of the charterers. Suppose the North Cape is char- 
tered by John Smith & Co. to carry a cargo to Bio 
Janeiro. They deliver their goods on the wharf, and 
we load them and carry them to Rio, but beyond 
loading, carrying, and unloading them, we legally 
have nothing to do with them. It is the supercargo’s 
business to tally the goods delivered on the wharf 
and put on board, see them safely landed at their 


92 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


destination, and take the consignee’s receipt for 
them. But more than that, he must take care of 
the cargo on the voyage. If there is live stock, he 
sees that it is fed and cared for. If there are 
fruits or vegetables, he takes care that they are kept 
cool in hot climates, and kept from freezing in north- 
ern latitudes. In short,” he concluded, “ the super- 
cargo must take as great care of the cargo as if it 
belonged to him, always under the owners’ orders. And 
he is a passenger on the ship, living in the cabin with 
the captain, and having nothing to do, of course, 
with the management of the vessel. There are al- 
ways two interests on a chartered ship, — the interest 
of the ship, which the captain takes care of, and the 
interest of the cargo, which is the supercargo’s work. 
Unfortunately w r e have had only small charters lately, 
that did not warrant the employment of a super- 
cargo, so his work has been left for me to do. When 
we are chartered for large and valuable cargoes, the 
charterers always put a supercargo on board.” 

Kit’s work on shore did not end when the small 
general cargo was discharged, as he expected. Nas- 
sau business men have an easy way of thinking that 
things can be done just as well to-morrow as to-day ; 
and when the North Cape was empty her return cargo 
of sponges and pineapples was not ready. He had to 
make frequent visits to Mr. Johnson, the pineapple 
man, and Mr. Sawyer, the sponge man, to hurry 
them up. 

“ I am just going out to the pine fields now,” Mr. 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 


93 


Johnson said when Kit first visited him ; “ come 
along, and see for yourself how things are.” 

Kit climbed into the carriage with him, and they 
drove out about two miles back of the city to the 
nearest fields, where he saw for the first time how 
pineapples grow. The field was a large one of 
twenty or thirty acres, very rocky, but with soil be- 
tween the protruding rocks that was almost as red as 
bricks, and covered with plants from three to four 
feet high, each plant with many long, narrow, stiff 
“ leaves,” and each leaf sharp with spines along its 
sides and a needle-like point. The score of colored 
men who were cutting the pines all wore leather leg- 
gings, he noticed, to protect them from the sharp 
points. 

“ And only one pineapple to a plant ! ” Kit ex- 
claimed; “I thought they would bear more than 
that.” 

u Only one,” Mr. Johnson laughed. “ The pine is 
a very large fruit to grow on so small a plant, and 
each plant produces only one. When it is ripe, we 
cut it, and that plant’s usefulness is over, except that 
it sends out a great many little shoots, called slips, 
which we take up and plant for next year’s crop. 
You see the pine grows on a long stalk in the middle 
of the plant, and shoots up like a big cabbage head 
out of a bush.” 

With the promise of enough pines to begin loading 
next day, Kit went to Mr. Sawyer’s sponge yard to 
hurry matters there, and was told that Mr. Sawyer 


94 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


was at the Sponge Exchange ; and through going 
there to find him he learned enough about sponges to 
make him open his eyes wide. The Exchange was a 
large stone building on one of the wharves, with a 
series of broad open arches on each side, so that it 
seemed to have no walls ; and its concrete floor was 
covered with separate heaps of sponge. 

“ This is the most important industry we have in 
Nassau,” Mr. Sawyer explained, “ and this Exchange 
is the largest sponge market in the world. The 
merchants fit out small sailboats for sponging, and 
the colored men who navigate them get the sponges 
sometimes by diving, sometimes by grasping them 
with long-handled rakes, like oyster tongs. The 
sponges are cleaned with lime and sea-water, and 
then are brought here and sold by auction. The mem- 
bers of the Exchange are so expert at the business 
that for a pile of sponges worth two hundred dollars, 
the bids frequently do not vary more than five or 
six cents. From here they go to the sponge yard 
of the purchaser, where they are cleaned again and 
sorted, and pressed into bales. I will go up to my 
yard with you and see what the prospects are.” 

The ground of the sponge yard was covered a foot 
deep with bits of waste sponge, and a dozen colored 
men and women were sitting about with scissors in 
their hands, examining the sponges, feeling them, 
cutting out rough bits of stone or coral, and some- 
times sewing loose ends together to give the sponge 
a better shape. A rough, ragged, shapeless sponge, 


A BURGLAR IN THE CABIN. 95 

after it went through these black hands, came out 
smooth and shapely. 

u Here is where we make the bales/’ Mr. Sawyer 
explained, leading Kit into a shed where a pile of 
sponge as big as a room was put under a powerful 
press and squeezed down to the size of a cotton bale. 
“ Sponge is very compressible, of course. Some of 
these colored men take a sponge as big as a bushel 
basket, and with crude levers press it into a small 
cigar box. It is not only my own sponge, of course, 
that you are to be loaded with ; I buy wherever I 
can, and I think I can promise you five hundred bales 
by two o’clock to begin on.” 

With his mission successfully accomplished, Kit 
returned to the ship and began his new duties as 
steward. 

“ Two more things to stow away in my knowledge 
box,” he said to himself. “ I’ve had precious little 
time to learn from books, but my work has taught 
me some things from experience ; all about Sisal 
hemp, to begin with, and now about pineapples and 
sponges. And maybe a little about people, too, for 
I’ve seen some queer ones.” 

In the two weeks more that the North Cape lay at 
Nassau, waiting for a cargo that was made ready for 
her very slowly, Kit managed the steward’s work in 
such a way that no complaints were made ; and that 
he reasonably considered a sure sign that he gave 
satisfaction, for the officers of a freight ship are not 
slow to find fault when anything goes wrong. While 


96 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


the loading was still in progress the mail steamer 
returned from her visit to the south side of Cuba, and 
after touching at Nassau went on to New York, 
carrying northward for trial and punishment the 
man of many names and crimes, MacNish, the stew- 
ard, who had been lying in the Nassau prison. 
And when the North Cape once more lay in front of 
Martin’s Stores, the newspapers were printing long 
accounts of his attempted escape as steward of a 
freight steamer, and his arrest in the West Indies. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE STRANGE CASE OF JOHN DOE. 

HILE Kit was picking his way through the 



* V pineapple fields and watching the processes in 
the sponge yards of Nassau, something was happen- 
ing on the other side of the world that would have 
made the blood jump in his veins if he could have 
known of it. 

Though it was midwinter in New York, it was 
then, in January, midsummer in the city of Welling- 
ton, New Zealand, which lies south of the equator. 
Doors and windows stood open, and men and ani- 
mals alike sheltered themselves as far as possible 
from the burning rays of the sun. Even the New 
Zealand boys, who are not little brown savages with 
feathers in their hair, but white boys who speak 
English and go to school and wear clothes made 
after London and Paris fashions — even the boys 
found it too hot to enjoy their usual Saturday 
games. 

On the very day that Kit was trying to hurry the 
pineapple men and sponge men of Nassau, there was 
an unusual stir in the big public hospital of Welling- 


97 


98 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


ton. Not in tlie wards where the patients lay ; no 
matter what happened outside, they were always 
kept quiet and tranquil. But downstairs in the 
Board room, where the Board of Governors of the hos- 
pital meets four times a year to inquire into the man- 
agement and arrange the financial affairs, the windows 
were open and the big table and soft armchairs all 
freshly dusted ; and in the banqueting-hall beyond, 
which the patients never see, but where the govern- 
ors regale themselves after their quarterly labors, a 
long table was spread as if for a banquet. 

Occasionally a carriage drove through the big gates, 
and one or two gentlemen stepped out and disap- 
peared in the house surgeon’s private office. It was 
evident, to every one who knew the hospital routine, 
that the quarterly meeting day had come, and that 
the governors were arriving. They were to audit the 
accounts, to hear complaints, to make any necessary 
changes in the staff, and last but by no means least 
to eat the good dinner that almost invariably follows 
the meeting of any board of charities. 

At two o’clock precisely the chairman rapped on 
the big table and called the Board to order ; and the 
ten other gentlemen, five on each side of the table, 
listened with more or less patience to the reading of 
the minutes of the last meeting. Then came a batch 
of reports ; for the reading of reports and the appoint- 
ment of committees to consider them form a large 
part of the business of such meetings. The house 
surgeon’s report gave a favorable account of the 


THE STRANGE CASE OF JOHN DOE. 99 

hospital’s work in the last quarter. So many patients 
had been received, so many had been discharged 
cured, and not so many but so few had died. If any 
stranger had been allowed to be present, he must have 
thought it the most remarkable hospital in the 
world. In the surgical ward, particularly, not a 
single patient had died while undergoing an opera- 
tion ; every operation had been successful. Some of 
the medical members of the Board smiled faintly 
when they heard this, being familiar with the cheer- 
ful medical custom of calling every operation success- 
ful when the patient does not die on the spot; he 
may die that night or the next day, but still the 
operation is called successful. There was a hush of 
interest about the table when the clerk read : — 

“ The strange case of John Doe need not be further 
mentioned here, as the house surgeon will ask the 
privilege of making a verbal report in his case at 
the pleasure of the Board.” 

Then followed the steward’s report, showing how 
many barrels of flour and sugar and other eatables 
had been consumed and what they had cost ; and the 
apothecary’s report of the medicines used, and a 
dozen more ; and, after a half-hour’s discussion of 
these matters, that part of the business was finished, 
and the chairman announced that he was “now ready 
to hear the house surgeon’s report on what has appro- 
priately been called the strange case of John Doe.” 

At this the house surgeon stepped forward with a 
small memorandum-book open in his hand. He was 


IOO 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


a tall, slender man with iron-gray hair and an ex- 
tremely professional appearance, slow and accurate 
in his speech. 

“ Although this case has already been brought to 
the attention of the Board, Mr. Chairman,” he began, 
“ I will briefly rehearse the principal facts for your 
further information. This man to whom we have 
given the name of John Doe, because his real name 
is totally unknown to us, was brought to this port 
six months ago by the British ship Prince Albert; 
and being both physically and mentally incapacitated, 
he was immediately brought to the hospital. The 
log of the Prince Albert showed that on the 27th of 
last June their lookout saw a signal of distress flying 
from a pole on a small unnamed and uninhabited 
island in the Pacific Ocean, the latitude and longitude 
of which I have a minute of, but do not at the 
moment remember. The ship was immediately put 
about and a boat lowered, and sent ashore under 
command of the second mate. The mate found what 
he at first supposed to be the dead bodies of four 
men, all scantily clothed ; but on examining the 
bodies faint signs of life were found in one, the man 
whom we now know as John Doe, who wore nothing 
whatever but a pair of trousers, and, like the others, 
was much emaciated. The only property found on 
the island was the small spar which had been set up 
for a signal pole ; and the plain inference was that the 
four men had escaped from some wreck on the spar, 
without an opportunity to save any of their property. 


THE STRANGE CASE OF JOHN DOE. 


IOI 


“ The • three men who were certainly dead were 
decently buried, and John Doe, who was unable to 
speak or even to open his eyes, was taken on board 
the Prince Albert , where under kind and judicious 
treatment he improved so far physically that by the 
time she reached this port he was able to walk a few 
steps, though still extremely weak. But there was 
no corresponding improvement in his mental condi- 
tion. He was not able to speak, 'and apparently 
understood nothing that was said to him. Such wu,s 
his state when he was received in the hospital. 

“It was my opinion, and that of the entire staff, 
that he was broken down by the terrible hardships 
and privations that had caused the death of his com- 
panions, starvation and exposure doubtless chief 
among them. Under our treatment he has gained 
greatly in strength, so that he is able to move about 
slowly; and if he were mentally sound I should feel 
warranted in discharging him as convalescent. But 
mentally he is still incapacitated. His memory is so 
utterly gone that he does not even know his own 
name or country. We have tried every means to 
arouse him from his stupor, but he has been able to 
articulate only six words, and those indistinctly. 
They are : ‘ I don’t know. I cannot remember.’ 

“ Those few words are sufficient, however, to show 
that he belongs to some English-speaking nation, 
probably either to our own country or to America, or 
perhaps to some of the British colonies. And my 
object in laying the case before you at this length is 


102 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


to enable the Board to determine whether under the 
circumstances he is a fit subject for further treat- 
ment in the hospital. Some question has been raised 
on that point on account of the doubt whether the 
man is even a British subject.” 

“ This is indeed an interesting case — a most inter- 
esting case!” the chairman said, when the house 
surgeon sat down. “ I do not remember that such 
a problem has ever been presented to us before. 
Whether this man, being no longer bodily ill, is en- 
titled to our further treatment and support, is what 
we are called upon to decide. I understand from our 
worthy chief of staff that he is now strong enough to 
walk about without assistance. Would it not be well 
to bring him into the room, that we may see for our- 
selves?” 

“ Yes, yes ; bring him in ! ” was echoed by several 
voices. “ Let us see whether we can make him 
out.” 

“ And if we find that he is an American,” one of 
the governors said, “he should be taken in charge 
by the consul of his own country.” 

“ One word more, Mr. Chairman,” said the house 
surgeon, taking the floor again. “ I must explain 
that there is some slight ground for believing that the 
man is an American rather than a British subject. 
The orderly on duty in the exercise yard reported to 
me several weeks ago that a ship had that day come 
into the harbor, flying the American flag ; and that 
this John Doe, seeing it over the top of the wall, 


THE STRANGE CASE OF JOHN DOE. 103 

showed more interest in it than in anything else 
since his arrival. He extended his arm toward it, 
and tried to mutter some words that the orderly 
could not make out. With this hint I have had it 
in mind to try upon him the effect of the flags of 
other nations ; but anticipating your desire to see the 
result for yourselves, I have postponed the trial until 
to-day, and have also asked the American consul to 
be present — subject, of course, to your wishes. The 
consul is now waiting in my office.” 

“Let us see John Doe first,” said the chairman; 
and the house surgeon pressed a bell button and gave 
some instructions to the orderly who answered. 

In a few minutes the door opened again, and the 
orderly escorted into the room what seemed at first 
to be a bent and stiffened old man, leaning heavily on 
a cane and making his way along with difficulty. 
His hair and beard were almost white, and he 
shuffled in without raising his eyes from the floor, as 
if he took no interest whatever in the proceedings. 
Led to a chair, he sat down heavily, and half-closed 
his eyes. But the professional eyes present saw that 
it was not age, but suffering and illness, that had 
reduced him to this condition. The aged look in 
his face was caused rather by pain than by years, for 
there were few of the wrinkles in the forehead or 
about the eyes or mouth that come with advanced 
age ; and his hands were those of a man in the prime 
of life, “ sixty-five or seventy,” an unprofessional 
person would have pronounced him ; but the physi- 


104 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


cians present knew that lie was very little, if at all, 
past forty. 

“ Well, my good man, how are you feeling to- 
day ? ” the chairman asked. 

“ I don’t know,” John Doe answered, without 
raising his eyes, and with a dazed look on his coun- 
tenance. 

“ When did you leave London ? ” one of the gov- 
ernors asked ; but the man merely shook his head. 

“ Or did you come from New York ? ” another 
said ; but still there was no answer but a feeble 
shake of the head. It was too evident that he un- 
derstood very little of what was said, and could not 
answer even that little intelligently. 

Several of the medical members of the Board went 
up to him and felt his pulse, examined the hue of his 
skin, raised the lids and looked searchingly into his 
eyes, and felt his scalp carefully for traces of an old 
injury, but could find none. 

“ Suppose that we see wli ether any of our flags 
will have an effect upon him to-day,” the chairman 
suggested ; and turning to the house surgeon he 
added, “ and invite the American consul to come in 
and see the result.” 

The surgeon went after the consul, and when they 
entered the room, they were followed by an orderly, 
bearing an armful of folded flags. The consul was 
invited to take a chair, after replying to the chair- 
man’s question that he was acquainted with the cir- 
cumstances of the case ; and the orderly was directed 


THE STRANGE CASE OF JOHN DOE. 1 05 

to unfold one of the flags and show it to the mysteri- 
ous patient. 

“ Try the British flag first,” the chairman said ; 
and the room was as quiet as death while the or- 
derly shook out the flag, and held it close to John 
Doe’s face. But the feeble man paid no more at- 
tention to it than he had paid to the questions. 

“ Now the French flag,” the chairman ordered ; 
and still John Doe did not raise his eyes from the 
floor. 

“ The American flag,” said the chairman. This 
was the test ; and as the orderly held out his arm 
with the beautiful stars and stripes hanging over it, 
the members of the Board leaned forward eagerly to 
watch the result. 

For a moment John Doe did not seem to see the 
flag. But presently his sunken eyes caught the brill- 
iant red and white stripes, and instantly a change 
was noticed in his face. A look of semi-intelligence 
came over it that none present had seen there before. 
Leaning the cane between his knees, he stretched out 
one hand and drew the orderly closer to him, and 
with the other hand stroked the stripes as lovingly 
and gently as he might have stroked a kitten or the 
head of a pet child. His lips moved, and it was plain 
that he was trying to utter words that would not 
come. And the hush in the room became still 
deeper when after a few moments of this the feeble 
man drew the back of his hand across his eyes to 
wipe away the moisture. 


106 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

“ That will do, Mr. Orderly ; you can take the 
flags away,” the chairman said ; and every man in 
the room noticed that John Doe kept his eyes fixed 
upon the flag until it was folded and carried away. 

“ If this remarkable experiment has had the same 
effect upon you as upon me, gentlemen,” the chair- 
man continued, “you have seen that the sight of 
an old friend has for a moment roused the slum- 
bering faculties of this poor man’s brain. I have 
no longer any doubt that he is an American ; and 
I should like to hear the American consul’s opinion 
of this strange case.” 

“ This is one of the most touching things that I 
have ever seen, Mr. Chairman,” the consul said, 
stepping forward. “ That this stricken and unfortu- 
nate man, a stranger in a strange land, sick, destitute, 
almost bereft of reason, should show this emotion at 
the sight of my flag, an emotion that nothing else 
excites in him, leaves me no room to doubt that 
he is my countryman. And yet I am compelled 
to say that this is not legal proof of his nationality, 
and to explain, what most of you doubtless know, 
that a consul is only permitted to give substantial 
aid to distressed seamen who are beyond doubt citi- 
zens of his country. Still I should be glad to strain 
a point and send this man home, if I only knew 
where to send him ; but that is yet one of the 
mysteries. 

“ What we have just seen, however, convinces me 
that his reason is not dead, only sleeping. Any 


THE STRANGE CASE OF JOHN DOE. io J 

familiar sight, the face of a member of bis family, 
even the mention of a familiar name, might restore 
his lost memory in an instant. I think you medical 
gentlemen will agree with me in this, for you have 
seen such cases. We shall have within a few weeks 
reports from our respective governments giving the 
♦names of all the British and American vessels that 
were lost last year. It is highly probable that the 
mention of the name of this man’s ship may awaken 
his memory sufficiently to give us a clue to his identity; 
and I shall of course lay the facts before the State 
Department at once. But meanwhile I am so firmly 
convinced that this unfortunate man is my country- 
man that I will willingly take upon myself person- 
ally the responsibility of his support.” 

The consul had hardly resumed his chair before 
one of the members of the Board sprang to his feet. 

“ Mr. Chairman,” he almost shouted, “it is about 
two months, as you know, since I returned from 
America. While there my interest in hospital work 
naturally led me to visit the great hospitals in many 
of the large cities. In New York, in Boston, in 
Chicago, in San Francisco, in New Orleans, I found 
that at least ten per cent of all the patients were 
British subjects, receiving every possible care and 
kindness without question of their nationality. In 
that land they do not ask whether a man is an 
American or a Briton or a Hottentot ; the only 
question is whether he is sick and in need of help, 
and if he needs it they give it to him. I do not 


1 08 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


wonder that this unfortunate man shed tears at 
the sight of his flag. And if we turn him out into 
the streets to starve because he is a foreigner, we 
ought to shed tears at the sight of ours, though for 
a widely different reason.” 

As the speaker took his seat there was such a 
furious clapping of hands that the chairman had to 
rap on the table for order. 

“ The Board seems to be so much of one mind,” 
he said, “ that it is not necessary to put a motion. 
John Doe will remain an inmate of the hospital 
until the Board’s further orders. And now, gentle- 
men, the orderly informs me that dinner is waiting. 
We hope, Mr. Consul, that you will do us the honor 
to dine with us.” 

At the precise moment when the Board went in to 
dinner, and the tottering John Doe was led back to 
his favorite seat in the sunny yard, Kit, in happy 
ignorance of his father’s condition, was learning that 
a sponge as big as a bushel basket could be pressed 
into a small cigar box. 


CHAPTER VII. 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 

O have another run out to Huntington when the 



J- North Cape returned from Nassau, was some- 
thing that Kit had been looking forward to. Not for 
a week this time, for he could not expect to have a 
week’s holiday at the end of every voyage ; but for 
two nights and a day, perhaps ; long enough to see 
the familiar faces and the old place. 

But three days, four days, passed, and he was still 
acting as steward; and he. could not ask for leave of 
absence while he had that work to do. And whether 
he ought to ask for the place permanently or not, he 
could hardly make up his mind. He felt the need, 
more than ever before, of some one to go to for 
advice and counsel. Tom Haines was a good friend, 
but Tom could hardly advise him in such a matter ; 
and to apply to the Captain was out of the question. 
So he did not know whether to feel glad or sorry 
when on the fourth day Captain Griffith brought a 
stranger into the cabin and introduced him as the 
new steward. 

“ You know the lay of the land in the pantry, 


109 


IIO THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

Christopher,” he said, “ so you can show him where 
things are kept.” 

And that was the end of his dream of becoming 
steward of the North Cape! 

“ I think I am rather glad than sorry,” he soon 
said to himself; “but if I had really wanted the 
place, this would really serve me just right for not 
making up my mind about it. Chances don’t wait 
for a fellow if he does not seize them when they offer. 
So I am still the cabin boy, and will still have a 
chance to copy the manifests and go ashore to check 
off cargo. And maybe this will give me a chance 
for my visit home.” 

That evening he walked the deck a little in the 
cold moonlight, deliberating whether he should ask 
for a furlough or not; and he had no sooner made 
up his mind to do it than he started for the Captain’s 
room, having seen enough of the dangers of delay. 
But before he reached the head of the companion way 
the Captain’s bell rang for him. 

“ Come in and shut the door, Christopher,” Cap- 
tain Griffith said. “ I have something to say to 
you.” Then when the door was closed, he continued, 
“ How old did you tell me you are ? ” 

“I am past seventeen now, sir,” Kit answered. 

“ You have done very good work for me, Christo- 
pher,” the Captain went on, “but still I am going to 
take your name off the crew list. I shall have to 
have a new cabin boy.” 

“ I hope not, sir ! Kit answered ; “ I have tried to 
give you satisfaction.” 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 1 1 I 

u You have done very well, I must admit,” the 
Captain said ; “ but you are not exactly fitted to the 
place. You are too bright for a cabin boy, and there 
is no better berth in the crew that I can give you.” 

So saying, he took out the book in which he kept 
the crew list and the wages account, ran his finger 
down to Kit’s name, and took up his pen. 

“ I see there is seven dollars and a half due 
you,” he went on, “ but we will call it ten dollars on 
account of the extra work you have been doing. So 
now I erase your name, and you are no longer a 
member of the crew ; ” and he ran his pen through 
Kit’s name with a big, broad mark. 

For a moment Kit felt as if a flash of lightning 
had come into the stateroom and struck him. 

“I hope you will tell me what I have done, to be 
sent away, Captain,” he said, in a voice that was not 
altogether steady. 

“ Well, sit down, Christopher, and I will tell you,” 
the Captain said, swinging his chair around as Kit 
took a seat. “ I could not well invite my cabin boy 
to sit down here for a talk, but as you are my cabin 
boy no longer, I can invite you now. I see you take 
it very much to heart, so I will tell you in few 
words.” 

It seemed to Kit at first as if a judge were about 
to pronounce sentence upon him ; but something in 
the Captain’s face gave him a little hope. 

“ The North Cape has been chartered by the big 
firm of Hunter & Hitchley for a long voyage. She 


1 12 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

is to go first to Barbadoes with a general cargo, there 
take on a cargo of sugar for London, and return 
from London to New York with another general 
cargo. Such a voyage requires a supercargo ; and 
when the firm asked me to recommend one I recom- 
mended Christopher Silburn. So it means that 
instead of being the cabin boy you will be the super- 
cargo as soon as you go over to Hunter & II itch ley’s 
office and sign the contract.” 

“ Oh, Captain ! ” Kit exclaimed ; he did not see 
how he could say anything more at the moment. 

“ Your pay will be only eighteen dollars a month 
for the present, on account of your youth ; and that 
is small pay for supercargo ; but it is better than six 
dollars as a cabin boy.” 

“ I should think so, sir ! ” Kit declared ; “ and I 
don’t know how I can ever thank you for such a 
kindness.” 

“ Never mind about that,” the Captain laughed. 
“ And now, Mr. Supercargo, you must leave me to 
my work, for I have a great deal to do to-night. Do 
you think you could find me a good cabin boy to 
take your place ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, I think I could,” Kit answered ; and he 
thought immediately of Harry Leonard, of Hun- 
tington. 

“ Then I will leave that matter witli you,” the 
Captain said, turning again to his work. 

Kit had to go on deck again for a little fresh air 
after this sudden change in his fortunes, and in his 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 113 

rapid march to and fro he met Tom Haines, and was 
on the point of telling him the news, but stopped 
himself. “ I must tell the folks at home first of all,” 
he thought ; and after a little chat with Tom about 
other matters, in which Kit hardly knew what he 
was talking about, he went down to the cabin to 
write a letter. 

“ I hoped to be with you in Huntington by this 
time,” he began, “ but you will have to put up with 
a ten-dollar note and a bit of good news.” 

Then he told the story of his promotion as plainly 
as his excited mind would permit, and added, “ Don’t 
mind taking the money, for I have a little more, and 
of course I will get an advance for a long voyage 
like that. I shall need some new clothes ; for what 
is good enough for a cabin boy would hardly be 
decent for a supercargo.” 

And at the end he sent a message for Vieve to take 
to Harry Leonard. “ If he’s not second mate of that 
bark yet, maybe he would like to be cabin boy of the 
North Cape at six dollars a month. I can get him 
the place if he wants it, but he must come or let me 
know the very day you get this, or it will be too late. 
And now for Barbadoes, folks, and London ! across 
the big ocean and back again ! I was hoping for that, 
you know. I’ll write again, of course, before we 
sail.” 

Kit’s interview with Hunter & Hitchley next day 
was something of an ordeal, for after the contract 
was signed they had endless instructions to give him. 


1 14 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

A hundred things he must attend to with the greatest 
care; and another hundred things he must avoid ; and 
such and such firms must be seen in New York, and 
so and so in Barbadoes, and in London. 

“ You are very young for this work,” Mr. Hitchley 
told him, “ but Captain Griffith has recommended 
you highly. We take you altogether on his recom- 
mendation.” 

“ I will do my best to give satisfaction, sir,” Kit 
answered. He had made the same promise on be- 
coming a cabin boy, and kept it, and was determined 
to keep it again. 

His new position brought many minor changes 
that he had not had time to think of yet. When 
the cabin dinner bell rang that day he did not quite 
know what to do, so he wisely waited and did noth- 
ing, and in a few minutes the Captain sent for him 
to come down to dinner. 

“ The supercargo eats with the Captain, Silburn,” 
Captain Griffith said. “ I neglected to tell you that. 
And he is always 4 Mister ’ to the crew ; but for my 
part I shall call you Silburn, because you are so 
young.” 

It was odd enough to be eating there with the 
Captain and first officer at the table he had helped 
to wait on before, but he soon grew accustomed to 
it, just as he did to being called Mr. Silburn by 
everybody but the Captain. In a few days he ap- 
peared in a new suit of dark blue cloth and a cap 
to match, with a single gilt button on each side ; a 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. I I 5 

costume in which he looked as nautical and business- 
like as any young supercargo could desire. 

Doing the clerical work in getting together and 
loading the cargo was mere routine business for him 
now, thanks to the experience he had had in former 
voyages ; and by the time the North Cape was ready 
for sea again he felt considerable confidence in him- 
self in his new position. The non-arrival of Harry 
Leonard made him a little uneasy, for it would not 
do to fail to have a cabin boy ready on sailing day. 
Harry had written that he would be on at once, but 
nearly a week had passed. He arrived, however, 
just as Kit was thinking of looking for another 
boy. 

“ Oh, say, what a swell you are, Kit ! ” he ex- 
claimed, “ in that uniform. I must have one like 
that some day. But I’ll take a shy at your old place 
first, for a voyage or two. That’s good enough to 
begin on, I suppose. Say, what does a fellow get pro- 
moted to from there? Does supercargo come next?” 

“Not always,” Kit answered. He could not help 
seeing that Harry’s ideas were up too near the top- 
masts, and would have to come down nearer the 
keel before long. “ But it’s very pleasant work in 
the cabin of the North Cape , as long as you don’t 
give the Captain any occasion to use his rope’s-end 
on you.” Kit did not believe much in teasing the 
new boys on board, but Harry was so full of his 
own importance that he could not resist the tempta- 
tion to frighten him a little. 


II 6 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

“No! say, does he though?” Harry asked, in 
alarm. “ Does he whack you very hard ?” 

“ Oh, not so very ! ” Kit laughed ; “ anyhow, you 
don’t mind it much after you get used to it. Come 
down to the cabin; he told me to bring you down 
to him when you came.” 

“ This is the boy I spoke to you about, sir,” Kit 
said to the Captain. “ His name is Harry Leonard.” 

“ I tried to come as soon as I got Kit’s letter,” 
Harry broke in, “ but I had to have some clothes 
made.” 

“What’s that!” Captain Griffith exclaimed, look- 
ing at the new boy sharply. “ If you mean the 
supercargo, his name is Mr. Silburn. Don’t forget 
that. Do you understand ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” Harry answered quite meekly ; and 
Kit thought that a good time for him to withdraw, 
when the interesting process of training a willing but 
conceited boy was beginning. 

There was a large streak of good nature in Harry, 
however, as well as a stock of humor; and he felt 
that he had wiped out this rebuff when he went up 
to Kit on deck on the third day out, and, touching 
his hat very formally, said : — 

“ Mr. Silburn, the Captain wishes to see you below, 
sir, if you please ; ” then drew his left eye down into 
a wink that was big enough for a dozen winks, stuffed 
his hands into his pockets, and strutted off whistling 
“ Yankee Doodle.” 

Every day Kit was busy for some hours with his 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 


II 7 


manifests; which he worked at in the afternoons now 
instead of the evenings. And it was fortunate for 
him that he wasted no time at the start ; for on the 
eighth day, when they were expecting every moment 
to sight Sombrero Key, the first land since leaving 
New York, they ran into a little tropical hurricane 
that tossed up a tremendous sea, and kept Captain 
Griffith on the bridge for nearly ten hours without 
rest. He did not stop his writing when the confu- 
sion on deck told him that they were preparing the 
ship for rough weather ; but in a few minutes his 
head began to ache, and he closed his eyes to rest 
them. Then a chilly feeling ran down the back of 
his neck ; he felt as if he must have taken a mixture 
of chicken salad, mince pie, ice cream, and soda water 
for dinner, and began to wonder whether a siege of 
illness was coming on. A minute later, however, 
Harry Leonard ran out of the pantry, holding both 
hands against his stomach. 

“Oh, Kit!” he cried, “or Mr. Silburn, or Super- 
cargo, or whatever your blessed name is, I’m so sick! 
oh, I wish you’d let me stay at home ! ” and he 
threw himself on one of the sofas and lay moaning. 

That told Kit what was the matter with him ; it 
was no tropical fever coming on, but a plain case of 
sea-sickness ! On his third voyage, when he had risen 
to be a supercargo, he was desperately seasick for the 
first time, simply because it was the first really rough 
weather he had encountered. 

The heavy rolling and pitching of the ship in that 


II 8 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

howling wind and tremendous sea, the incessant 
rattling and breaking of dishes in the pantry, the 
creaking of joiner work, the shouting of orders on 
deck, the men running to and fro to execute them, 
the whir and jar of the screw when a lunge of the 
bow raised it out of the water, combined to give Kit 
his first real idea of bad weather at sea. He went 
on deck, and the fresh air made him feel better ; and 
he exercised his privilege as supercargo and went up 
on the bridge, where he instantly saw by the anxious 
faces of the Captain and first officer that they were 
worried. He knew that the storm alone was not 
sufficient to put the ship in danger; but they were 
in the neighborhood of Sombrero and other small 
islands of that group, night was coming on, and as 
there was no sun that day for an observation they 
were not sure of their position, and the outlook was 
not encouraging. 

No supper was prepared in the cabin that evening, 
for neither the Captain nor his mate had time to eat ; 
but sandwiches and hot coffee were put on the table ; 
and when the Captain came down to swallow a cup 
of coffee in haste he merely shook his head in reply 
to Kit’s questions. 

Late in the evening Harry still lay groaning on the 
sofa, and Kit was in and out, for neither of the boys 
felt inclined to turn in. About eleven o’clock a terri- 
ble pounding began on deck. It sounded almost as 
if one of the iron masts had fallen and was rolling 
about the deck. First there was a thumping from 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. I 19 

port to starboard that seemed enough to crush in the 
deck, followed by a moment of quiet, and then, as the 
ship rolled again, the rolling went from starboard to 
port. Harry sprang up in alarm. 

“ Kit, we’re goners ! ” he exclaimed ; “ the ship’s 
going down ! ” 

“ I don’t believe it,” Kit answered, “ but something 
has carried away.” 

They both ran for the companionway and scram- 
bled on deck, where the terrific wind almost tore 
them oft their feet. Everything was dark as pitch 
except for the light of a solitary lantern, and by that 
faint light they saw that in the heavy rolling one of 
the winches had broken loose and was rolling from 
side to side of the deck, to the imminent danger of 
both deck and rail ; and men were trying to lassoo it 
with heavy ropes, for no one could approach it with- 
out risking his life. While they watched, the winch 
was caught and secured, and they returned to the 
cabin. 

About two o’clock Captain Griffith came down with 
the relieved look of a man who had just rid himself 
of an aching tooth. “ We’re all right,” he said, as 
the steward brought him another cup of coffee. 
“ We’ve just sighted Sombrero light, so we’ll not 
visit Davy Jones’s locker just yet. It’s time for you 
to turn in, Henry.” 

Harry started oft for his berth, and Kit and the 
Captain had a little chat over their coffee. 

“I don’t like being off a rocky coast on a bad 


120 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


night,” the Captain said. “ The North Cajie is good 
for any kind of weather, but the ship has not been 
built yet that will stand a night’s pounding on the 
rocks. Now by afternoon we should be off St. Kitts, 
and from that all the way down to Barbadoes you 
will see some of the finest sights you ever saw in 
your life. I have seen the Alps and most of the best 
scenery in Europe, but never anything to equal these 
beautiful islands we will soon pass — St. Kitts, Nevis, 
Montserrat, Martinique, Dominica, and several more. 
Most of them are mountain peaks rising from the sea 
and touching the clouds. Barbadoes itself is flat and 
uninteresting, except for being the most thickly 
populated bit of land on the globe. It contains only 
about forty square miles, and has forty thousand 
inhabitants, or a thousand to a square mile, mostly 
negroes. But you will soon see for yourself. I feel 
quite ready for a sleep. Good-night, Silburn.” 

“ Good-night, sir,” Kit answered ; and he made 
his way across the unsteady cabin by holding on to 
the backs of seats, and was soon in his own berth. 

By the middle of the afternoon the young super- 
cargo learned another of the advantages of being in 
his new position. They were then skirting the coast 
of the British island of St. Kitts, having left the 
storm and the worst of the rough sea in their wake. 
Instead of taking a hurried look at the shore over the 
rail, with both ears open for the Captain’s bell, as the 
cabin boy must generally do, he could go up on 
the bridge and take a good look through the Cap- 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 


12 


tain’s glasses ; and he was soon convinced that Cap- 
tain Griffith had not at all exaggerated the beauty of 
the scenery. He was used to high hills, for Hunting- 
ton is surrounded by them, but not hills like these. 

“ To think of a mountain coming right up out of 
the water,” he said to himself, “ and going on up and 
up till the peak is in the clouds, and looking as green 
and smooth as the grass in a park — though I know 
it’s not grass, for the Captain says it is fields of sugar- 
cane below, and trees toward the top. And the way 
those clouds gather around the peak ! It seems to 
catch them as they float by, and they grow thicker 
and blacker every minute till there is more water 
than they can hold, and it comes down without 
warning in a deluge of rain, and then the sun shines 
again ! I never saw anything like it.” 

Then the next day he was equally enthusiastic over 
the French island of Martinique, which is much larger 
and has many peaks instead of a single one ; and soon 
afterward the British Dominica, with scarcely any 
inhabitants in its high mountains but the fragments 
of the once-powerful race of Caribs, who live now by 
making baskets so tight that they will hold water and 
are used for trunks. As they passed the little port 
of Roseau, the capital of Dominica, they saw a large 
steamer lying at anchor, which Kit learned was the 
New York mail steamer the Trinidad , bound like 
themselves for Barbadoes ; and within the next hour 
she was under way and following in their wake. 

In a longer race the North Cape would have had 


122 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


little chance against the speedier Trinidad ; but the 
distance from Dominica to the roadstead off Bridge- 
town, Barbadoes, is so small that the two vessels 
dropped anchor there almost at the same moment, 
the North Cape as near to the breakwater as safety 
allowed, and the Trinidad farther out. As the day 
was about closing, Captain Griffith was in no hurry 
to enter his ship at the Custom House, for in any case 
he could not begin unloading until the next day ; but 
it was different with the other steamer, which had 
passengers on board who were anxious to land. So 
it happened that the boat in which Kit was set ashore 
to pay an early visit to his agent, reached the land- 
ing-steps almost at the same moment as the boat that 
carried the Trinidad's purser. 

Kit was first up the steps, followed by the well-fed 
purser, who, although not a tall man, weighed some- 
thing over two hundred pounds. 

“Just my luck!” the fat purser panted, as he 
looked about the large open square. “If I — huh, 
ahull, huh — if I didn’t want a — huh, huh — want a 
carriage, the square would be full of them ; but when 
I want one in a — ah! — in a hurry, there’s none 
here. Here it’s four minutes to six; and how’s a 
man of my — huh, huh — of my size going to get 
to the Custom House before they close at six o’clock, 
I’d like to know ! ” 

“ Maybe I can be of use to you, sir,” Kit said, 
stepping up to him. “ I am supercargo of the North 
Cape , and I’m a pretty good runner. I’ll take your 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 


123 


papers up to the Custom House for you if you 
like.” 

“ Oh, thank you,” the purser panted, looking very 
much relieved. “ I’ll be a thousand times obliged to 
you. Here they are, then, all ready ; all you have to 
do is to shove them under the clerk’s nose.” 

Kit made a hurried inquiry about the direction of 
the Custom House and started on a run, and had the 
satisfaction of delivering the papers just half a min- 
ute before business closed for the day. He next 
visited his agent and arranged for lighters in the 
morning ; and an hour later he met the Trinidad's 
purser again, not quite so short-breathed and red in 
the face this time. 

“ Here we are again, supercargo ! ” he exclaimed, 
seizing Kit’s hand. He had a very jolly manner, 
and seemed as free with Kit as if they had been ac- 
quainted for years. “ You can’t miss anybody in 
this hole of a place. They call it a town, but I call 
it a hole. I’m just going in here to get something 
to cool me off, and I want you to come along.” 

u I’m just as much obliged,” Kit answered ; “ but 
I suppose you mean something to drink, and I never 
drink anything.” 

u I suppose you’ve made a mistake, for the first 
time in your life,” the purser rejoined, with a laugh 
that shook him all over. “ I mean something to eat ; 
a big heaped-up plate of the coldest ice cream this 
side of New York. We’re right in front of the ice- 
house, where I always eat a lot of ice cream for the 


24 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


fun of hearing it sizzle as it goes down. By the way, 
my name’s Clark ; what’s yours ? ” 

“ Silburn,” Kit replied. “ But the ice-house ? 
This looks like a store.” 

“ So it is,” said the purser, as they climbed the 
stairs to a big restaurant where scores of people were 
eating. “ It’s store, restaurant, ice-house, furniture- 
shop, a dozen things combined. I thought every- 
body knew the Bridgetown ice-house. Ice is a 
government monopoly here, you know, and these fel- 
lows buy the privilege of selling all that is used on the 
island. Hello here, Snowflake” (to one of the black 
waiters ; he seemed to know every one in the place), 
“ bring us two platters of your best ice cream ; 
platters, do you hear? Not saucers, or plates, but 
the biggest platters you have.” 

Kit found the ice cream excellent, and the purser 
a very entertaining companion. He was full of good 
sea-stories, and knew how to tell them in an inter- 
esting way. And he wanted to know all about the 
young supercargo. 

“ You’re very young for such a place,” he said ; 
“ at your age I was sweeping the cabin and brushing 
the Gaptain’s clothes.” 

“ So was I,” Kit laughed, “ until this voyage ; ” 
and he had to tell how he became a supercargo, 
after describing his rescue by Captain Griffith from 
a Brooklyn policeman. 

“Well, you’ll make your way, if you take care of 
yourself,” Mr. Clark said, after Kit had finished his 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO . 


125 


story and liis ice cream together. “Just you let 
drink alone and don’t get anything into your 
pockets that belongs to some other fellow. It’s 
rum that spoils a good many young fellows at sea, 
and you can’t keep too far away from it. I know 
appearances are rather against me ” (and his fat 
sides shook again) ; “ they tell me a man with my 
red face has no business to give temperance lectures ; 
but to tell the truth, I never drink any liquor, though 
I’ll own up to being fond of good eating. Here, 
Snowflake, two more platters of ice cream; and 
don’t stop to warm it.” 

Kit soon found that notwithstanding his free-and 
easy manner and his almost continual laughter, his 
new companion was a man of great sense and good 
judgment, thoroughly acquainted with the work of 
both purser and supercargo. 

“ I’m glad we ran across each other,” Mr. Clark 
said, as he shook the young supercargo’s hand. 
“ We’ll meet again sometime, certain sure. Don’t 
forget me ; and remember that when you need a 
friend you’ll always find one in the purser of the 
Trinidad .” 

That was another of the advantages of being a 
supercargo ; he could make friends and associate 
with people who would not have paid much atten- 
tion to a cabin boy. But he had more things to 
learn before the day was over ; for when he returned 
to the ship he found Captain Griffith preparing to 
go ashore, and the Captain invited him to go along 


126 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


and meet some of the merchants with whom he 
would have to do business. They went to the Mer- 
cantile Club, where he found the latest English and 
American newspapers, and news telegrams posted 
from London and New York, and met some of the 
principal business men of Bridgetown, and several 
large sugar planters who went “ in to town ” in the 
evenings to hear what was going on in the big out- 
side world. The conversation was all about busi- 
ness and the price of sugar and the state of the 
crops and the price of freights ; and it did not take 
him long to realize that with his new associations 
he was no longer a boy, but a young man of affairs 
who must keep his eyes and ears open and inform 
himself about a great many things that he had paid 
no attention to before. 

For nearly a week the young supercargo was so 
busy with getting his cargo ashore and delivered 
that he had no further chance of seeing the city 
or the island ; but when it came to loading he had 
more time to himself. The sugar came in slowly, 
and there were days when there was not enough on 
the wharf to keep the lighters busy. On such days 
he had several times to drive out to large plantations 
to hurry the work, and the planters always treated 
him with the greatest hospitality. Every night he 
had some new entry to make in the journal that he 
began to keep when he became a supercargo — a 
journal that he refused to call a diary, because he 
had no intention of writing in it regularly, but only 


KIT BECOMES A SUPERCARGO. 


27 


when he had something worth writing. Captain 
Griffith found the little book lying on his desk one 
day and wrote on the fly-leaf, “Kit Silburn, His 
Log ” ; and after that it was always known as “ The 
Supercargo’s Log.” Some of his entries tell in very 
few words the story of part of his first long voyage. 

“ Feb. 12. — Still at Bridgetown, Barbadoes. Took 
in 146 hogsheads of sugar to-day, with 12 lighters. 
The sugar is all done up in hogsheads, weighing 
something over a ton each. It is black-looking stuff 
as it comes from the mills, and has a sweet, sickish 
smell. The colored people like to lie on the wharf 
in the sun and lick up the molasses that leaks out of 
the casks. We have now 821 hogsheads on board. 

“Feb. 13. — Still at Bridgetown. No lighters at 
work to-day, as there was no sugar ready. Went 
out to three plantations to hurry things. At the Sea 
View plantation Mr. Outerb ridge took me all over 
the place, and made me stay to dinner. (P.S. He 
has a beautiful young daughter, Miss Blanche, and 
after dinner we had a pony race. She beat me.) 
They say this sun would kill a white man in three 
months if he worked in the cane-fields, but it does 
not hurt the negroes. Saw how they squeeze out the 
cane-juice between big rollers, and then boil it down 
into sugar. The planters promised me 150 hogsheads 
by to-morrow. 

“Feb. 14. — Got 122 hogsheads sugar on board, 
and plenty promised for to-morrow. Very curious 
thing happened to me to-day. When I came aboard 


128 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


ship to supper, found a letter for me, though no mail 
steamer in. Opened it, and found a handsome val- 
entine. Can’t imagine who could have sent it. 

“Feb. 15. — Only 30 hogsheads loaded to-day, on 
account of heavy rain. 

“ Feb. 20. — Loaded 82 hogsheads. Have now 
1455 on board. We hope to sail for London on Sat- 
urday. Miss Blanche Outerbridge has invited me to 
a lawn party at their plantation to-morrow. Half 
afraid to go, for never was at a lawn party in my 
life. 

“Feb. 21. — No sugar to-day. Went to the lawn 
party, and had splendid time. The Governor was 
there, and Mr. Outerbridge introduced me to him. 

“Feb. 23. — Loaded 1G0 hogsheads to-day. Sugar 
coming with a rush now. 

“ Feb. 25. — Sailed for London at two o’clock 
this afternoon, witli 2415 hogsheads of sugar, making 
about $120,000 worth of cargo that 1 have to look 
after. Must keep my eyes open. Will see no more 
land now till we sight the Scilly Islands, off the 
English coast. 

“March 15. — Expect to sight the Scillys to-mor- 
row morning. Have had a fairly good voyage so far, 
with some bad weather, but no hard gales. A long 
stretch of water, this, from Barbadoes to England ; 
but the seas are no higher in the middle than along 
the coast. Cargo in good order.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


NEWS FROM TIIE WRECKED SCHOONER. 

00N after daylight on a raw and chilly March 



h3 morning the masthead lookout cried “ Land-ho !” 
And the officers and crew of the North Cape knew 
that their voyage across the Atlantic had reached its 
last stage. Captain Griffith was on the bridge, as 
most careful commanders are on entering the busy 
English Channel ; and Kit was there too, eager for a 
first sight of the Old World. An hour later the Scilly 
Islands could be seen plainly without a glass, though 
at that distance they looked like a single island with 
ships’ masts growing upon it like trees. Kit had 
read as much as possible in the Captain’s books about 
the places. he was to see, so he knew that the group 
is composed of about fifty small islands, and that 
what looked like ships’ masts were the signal poles 
upon which are announced the arrival and departure 
of more vessels than are signalled at any other place 
in the world. 

The second officer was busy on deck making fast a 
series of six or eight signal flags to a line, and at a 
word from the Captain they were hoisted. A mo- 


129 


130 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


ment later a large black ball was run up on one of 
the poles on shore, and the flags were lowered, folded, 
and returned to the flag locker. It was done so 
quickly that Kit could hardly believe that those few 
stripes of bunting had accomplished so much in so 
short a time ; but he knew that the flags said to the 
signalman on shore, “ North Cape , from Barbadoes 
for London, eighteen days, with sugar ” ; and that 
when the signalman hoisted his black ball it said, 
“ All right ; I understand you.” And he knew, too, 
that almost before the flags were lowered a tele- 
graphic message had gone to London, announcing 
the ship’s arrival, to be posted in the Maritime Ex- 
change, where her agents would see it as soon as the 
Exchange opened for the day; and that long before 
that the news would have gone under the ocean by 
cable to be posted in the Exchange in New York, 
where it would appear a few hours later in the after- 
noon newspapers. So by the hoisting of those few 
flags the whole world was informed that the North 
Cape had made her voyage safely, and was approach- 
ing her destination. 

“ What’s the matter, Silburn ? ” the Captain asked, 
bringing his hand down on Kit’s shoulder. “ You 
look sorry to have the voyage nearly ended. Would 
you rather turn round and go back ? ” 

“ No, sir ! ” Kit replied ; “ I ’m anything but sorry. 
But I was just thinking what a tremendous lot there 
is to learn in this world. Here we have seen nothing 
but sky and water for eighteen days, and with only 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 


31 


the sun and stars to guide you, you knew almost the 
exact minute when we should be here beside the Scilly 
Islands. Then you hoist a flag, and in ten minutes 
they know in New York and in Barbadoes that we 
have arrived. It is the most wonderful thing I ever 
saw.” 

“ Oh, no, Christopher,” the Captain answered ; 
“ you have seen stranger things than that. Do you 
see the sun coming up out of the water there to east- 
ward ? That is rather more wonderful, isn’t it ? 
Every leaf on every tree is more wonderful than any- 
thing that man has done. If we knew half as much 
as we think we do, there would be no more sickness in 
the world, because we would have a cure for every 
disease ; no more poverty, for the earth is full of 
wealth and we should know how to get it out ; and 
instead of merely sending a few dots and dashes by a 
wire across the ocean, we should be able to see what 
they are doing over in New York, and talk to them. 
We may come to that some day.” 

“ I wish we had come to that now, sir ! ” Kit ex- 
claimed. “ If we could see all over the world, I 
should know where my father is, if he is alive.” 

“ It’s better as it is, my hoy,” the ’Captain went 
on. “ To see over the world would gratify your 
curiosity, but it would give yQii a great deal of 
worry. No, there are some mysteries of nature that 
we are better off not to understand, at least until we 
have advanced enough in all directions to understand 
that everything that happens is for the best. Still, 


32 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


we must always make the best of what we do know. 
Some people, for instance, know enough to go below 
when the breakfast bell rings. Come along. 

u This is a great coast to learn history from,” the 
Captain continued, while they were eating breakfast. 
“ A large share of the modern history of the world 
has been made in this channel. We don’t want to 
see a storm to-day, but if it had not been for a storm 
in this channel, you would most likely be a Catholic, 
and we should have an image of the Virgin Mary in 
the cabin.” 

“ Oh, yes, sir, I know about that,” Kit interrupted. 
“ You mean the storm that broke up the great Span- 
ish Armada. But the British say they had the 
Armada whipped before the storm came.” 

“ Trust the British for that ! ” the Captain laughed ; 
“ they won’t let even nature have any of the credit. 
But that is only one thing in a hundred. Here is 
Land’s End just off our port bow, on the coast of 
Cornwall. A few years ago they were all singing a 
song beginning : — 

li ‘ And must Trelawny bleed ? And must Trelawny die ? 
Then twenty thousand Cornishmen will know the reason why.’ 

Now who was Trelawny, and why must he die ? No, 
I’m not going to tell you ; you can hunt it up in 
some of my books. Then in a few hours we will be 
passing a little town called Lyme Regis — a town 
that never amounted to much, but some years ago 
the whole world was anxious about what was hap- 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 133 

pening there. Who was the prince who landed 
there with an army, and tried to make himself King 
of England ? You can hardly name a spot along 
this whole coast, but has some important events con- 
nected with it.” 

Within the next twenty-four hours Kit saw a great 
many places that before had existed for him only on 
paper. His father had often brought home some of 
Clark Russell’s sea-stories, and Kit had read them 
without stopping to think that the places mentioned 
in them were real places. But here was “ The Liz- 
ard,” a high point surmounted by a light-house that 
looked like an old castle ; and Bolt Head, and Port- 
land Bill, then St. Alban’s Head, and St. Catherine’s 
Point. He had read of all of those. Then by the 
next morning they were well up the Channel ; and 
although the French coast was near enough to be 
seen indistinctly, they were so close to the British 
shore that they had a good view of Brighton, East- 
bourne, Hastings, and Dungeness, all of which Kit 
had heard of. Then they ran into the narrow straits 
of Dover, past Folkestone, South Foreland, Deal, 
Ramsgate, Broadstairs, North Foreland, and Margate, 
and headed straight for the mouth of the Thames. 

“ Now, then, Silburn,” Captain Griffith said, when 
they were fairly in the river, “ your work will soon 
begin. I don’t know where this cargo is to be 
landed, and it’s your place to find out. I shall run 
up as far as Gravesend and wait there for orders 
from the agents. They ought to have a tug there to 


134 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


meet us ; but if they don’t, you will have to go on to 
London and find out where we are to discharge. 
They may order us up to the docks, or keep us 
below here.” 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered, as if “ running up to 
London ” were an everyday affair with him. 

“ They have a saying over here,” the Captain went 
on, “ that it’s not worth while to do your own bark- 
ing when you keep a dog ; so as you are the super- 
cargo, you’d better do the barking, which, in this 
case, is to find out where we are to unload. I’ll 
lower the gig and set you ashore at Tilbury, just 
across the river from Gravesend, and you can get a 
train from there up to London, and go to the agents’ 
office ; that is, of course, if they do not send some one 
to Gravesend to meet us.” 

Kit went down to his room to make his papers 
ready, feeling anything but comfortable over this 
prospect. How was he to go to London alone, 
knowing nothing of the city, and make his way 
through strange streets to the office of a strange 
agent ? Going to make the acquaintance of strangers 
was hard work for him at first, but he had grown 
used to that now ; but to make his way about Lon- 
don was another matter. Llowever, he did not let 
this worry him long. 

“ If I am going to be a child, afraid to go into a 
new city,” he said to himself, “I’d better be a cabin 
boy again. When a fellow undertakes to do man’s 
work, he must go at it like a man. Other young- 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 


35 


sters have gone to London, I suppose, without being 
eaten.” 

Notwithstanding his brave ideas, he looked with 
some anxiety for the agent when the North Cape 
came to a stop in the Thames opposite Gravesend 
and near the Tilbury shore. But no tug appeared, 
and it was plain that he was destined to make the 
trip to London. 

“ Now listen sharp to what I tell you,” Captain 
Griffith said, “and you will come through all right. 
We will set you ashore at Tilbury, and the railway 
station is right at the wharf. Buy a second-class 
ticket, and the train will carry you about twenty- 
five miles and set you down in Fen church Street 
station, in London. The agents, as you know, are 
Topping, For wood & Hauts, at 32 Fenchurch Street, 
and that is only three or four blocks from the station. 
But that part of the city is greatly crowded, and 
rather than waste time by your losing yourself, I 
want you to go . up in a hansom. You will find 
scores of them in front of the station, and the fare 
will be one shilling. Here is a pound in English 
silver change, which I will charge to you. And 
before doing your own business with the agents, have 
them send me a telegram saying where we are to 
discharge cargo. Is that all plain ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered ; “ I think I can carry 
that through without making any slips.” 

The gig landed him at Tilbury wharf, and he 
immediately found himself in a different world. His 


136 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


ticket he bought at the “ booking-office,” and when 
he went- through to the train its antiquated appear- 
ance made him smile. The cars were like little 
square boxes, not much bigger than a street car, but 
divided into compartments holding eight persons 
each, with the doors on the sides ; and the engine 
looked like the small locomotives of the elevated 
railroads in New York. 

The hour’s ride took him first through open fields 
that looked strangely green for the time of year, 
then past a settlement of immense gas tanks, through 
several small towns, and then among such a maze of 
houses that he knew he must be in London. When 
the train stopped in Fenchurch Street station, he had 
no need to inquire his way to the street, for he had 
only to follow the crowd. Down the long steps he 
went through the lower part of the station, and 
found himself for the first time in a crowded London 
street. 

The Captain was right about the hansoms ; there 
stood a row of them reaching almost out of sight, 
and he went up to one of the nearest and asked the 
driver : — 

“ Can you take me to No. 32 Fenchurch Street ? ” 

The driver looked at him a moment, and shook 
his head doubtfully. 

“ I s’pose it kin be done, sir,” he answered, “ but 
it’s a-goin’ to be consid’able of a job, h’account of 
this ’ere crowd. It’s all a-owin’ to the funeral. 
You see the Prince o’ Wiles’s mother-in-law she’s 



\ 






“‘CAN YOU TAKE ME TO NO. 32 FENCHURCH STREET?”’ 








































































































NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 137 

gone an’ died, sir, an’ they’re a-buryin’ of ’er hin the 
Temple this harternoon, an’ the streets is blocked. 
But Hi kin tike you ’round cirkewetous-like, sir.” 

“ Well, get me there as soon as you can,” Kit said ; 
and he stepped in, and the driver shut the two little 
half-doors, and they set off. Certainly he had never 
before seen streets so crowded. The driver turned 
off at the first corner, but even in the side streets he 
could barely make his way through the crush. On 
and on they went, turning here and turning there, 
but everywhere the crowd was the same ; and in 
every street Kit kept his eyes open for a look at the 
procession, but saw nothing of it. A quarter of an 
hour passed, a half hour, and still they were dodg- 
ing through the throng. 

Suddenly Kit gave one of his knees a tremendous 
slap and began to laugh. 

“ Didn’t they come near doing me for a country- 
man ! ” he said to himself. “ The Prince of Wales’s 
mother-in-law, indeed ! Why, she was the Queen of 
Denmark, and must have died before I was born. 
Anyhow, she wouldn’t be buried in London; and 
this is no funeral crowd in the streets ; it’s all han- 
soms and ’busses and trucks — the usual London 
crowd, no doubt. The cabby sees I am a stranger 
and will get as much out of me as he can.” 

At length the hansom drew up in front of No. 32 
Fenchurch Street, and Kit stepped out, and handed 
the driver a shilling. 

“ Wot’s this for?” cabby asked, pretending to be 


138 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


very much surprised “ It’s six shillin’, sir, by the 
wiy we ’ad to come. Hi ought to say ten, but Hi’m 
willin’ to make it six.” 

“ Oh, I guess not,” Kit laughed. “ A shilling’s a 
good big fare for the distance. It’s too bad about 
the poor Prince of Wales, isn’t it?” 

Although cabby had climbed down from his high 
seat and was assuming a very belligerent look, Kit 
felt bold to make this mention of the funeral because 
he saw a big policeman walking slowly toward them 
on the sidewalk, and be felt sure that the driver 
would not care to have the question referred to the 
authorities. And he was right about this; cabby 
growled a moment about a poor man having to live, 
but accepted the shilling, and drove away before the 
officer reached them. 

It was surprising how easily and quickly the busi- 
ness was done with the agents. They sent a tele- 
gram at once to Captain Griffith, informing him that 
he was to unload at Gravesend ; and in a few minutes 
Kit was talking with them as freely as if he had 
been taking cargoes to London for years. He could 
not help noticing how much easier it was for him now 
to become acquainted with people than it had been 
at first. The rough edges were wearing off, and in- 
stead of a ship’s boy he was becoming a man of busi- 
ness. It was easier, he found, to manage a cargo in 
London than in the West Indian ports, because 
everything was done in a more business-like way ; 
and a cargo of sugar, being all in large parcels, was 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 


139 


much easier to handle than a miscellaneous cargo. 
When he had received all the instructions the agents 
had to give him about the sugar, he found that a 
young clerk from the office was to accompany him 
back to Gravesend to arrange for storing the sugar 
in a bonded warehouse. 

“ This is Mr. Watkins, one of our junior clerks,” 
the head of the firm said. u Mr. Silburn, supercargo 
of the North Cape , Watkins. You can travel to 
Gravesend together, as Mr. Watkins has to see the 
warehousemen.” 

Kit was a little surprised at the appearance of his 
new companion. Mr. Watkins was about his own 
age, perhaps a trifle older and taller, with rosy cheeks, 
and a voice that seemed, whenever he spoke, to come 
up from the very soles of his shoes. He wore a long 
black frock coat, rubbed a little shiny on the shoul- 
ders and elbows, and a shiny high silk hat ; and as 
they went down the stairs together, he drew on a 
pair of leather-colored kid gloves. 

“ You’re — ah — aren’t you very young, you know, 
to be a supercargo, Mr. Silburn ?” the young clerk asked. 

“ Well, I’m growing a little older every day,” Kit 
answered. 

“ You must have paid — aw — aw — a heavy pre- 
mium to get into such a place at your age,” Watkins 
went on. 

“ Premium ? ” Kit repeated ; he did not understand 
the English system of paying a premium to have a 
boy apprenticed to any business. 


140 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“Y-a-a-s,” Watkins continued. “ My father had 
to pay a hundred pounds to get me into this office, 
and I’ll not earn enough to pay my board for the 
next two or three years.” 

“We don’t pay any premiums in our country,” Kit 
exclaimed. “A boy or young man gets a salary there 
for working, and the more lie’s worth the more he gets.” 

“Aw, really!” Mr. Watkins exclaimed. “No 
Wonder America is such a good country for young 
men. I’ve often thought of going over there, don’t 
you know, if I could only get the chance.” 

At first Kit felt something of a dislike for the 
young Englishman, perhaps on account of his pecul- 
iar style of dress and strange manner of talking. 
But when he came to know him better, the dislike 
melted away, for he found Watkins to be a very 
clever fellow. 

Instead of going to the railway station they went 
in the other direction, down to the end of London 
Bridge, and there took one of the little river steam- 
ers for Gravesend. 

“ I want to show you some of the sights of Lon- 
don,” Watkins said, “ and when I go over to America, 
you can show me around New York.” 

“ Oh, I’ll do that,” Kit readily promised, “ if I am 
at home. So this is London Bridge, is it? I’ve 
often heard of it, and the great crowds continually 
crossing it.” 

“ Have you any bridges as large as that in 
America?” Watkins asked. 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 


141 

Kit was on the point of replying that there were 
a great many very much larger ; but he caught him- 
self in time, remembering that it is not well to boast 
of one’s own country in a foreign land. 

“ Oh, yes,” he said, “ we have some as large as 
that ; and some of our rivers are quite as large as 
the Thames, I think.” 

“Really!” Mr. Watkins exclaimed; “I should 
hardly have thought it. But here comes the 
boat.” And they stepped aboard a steamer that 
Kit thought a very small one, compared with the 
American boats; and his companion soon began to 
point out places of interest. 

“ There is the Tower of London,” he said. “ I 
will take you in there some day, if you like. And 
there is St. Catherine’s dock, and next are the Lon- 
don docks, and then the East India docks — you 
must have heard of them. Here on the other side 
is the great Greenwich observatory. That ought to 
interest you, for more than half the ships afloat take 
their time from the big Greenwich clock. You see 
the river is very crooked. These straight places 
between the bends we call ‘ reaches.’ We have 
come through Greenwich Reach and Woolwich 
Reach, and now we get to Barking Reach, Halfway 
Reach, and Long Reach.” 

By the time they got to Gravesend Kit felt that 
he had seen a great deal of London for a first visit of 
two or three hours. And he had made one acquaint- 
ance at least, and had done his supercargo’s business 


142 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


with the agents as far as it- could be done on the first 
day. There was hardly any spot he had seen that 
he had not heard of before ; for his father had made 
many voyages to the great European city, and had 
often told them stories about London. 

When they landed, Mr. Watkins went in search of 
the warehousemen, and Kit found that he had not 
far to go. for on receipt of the telegram the North 
Cape had moved up to one of the Gravesend wharves. 
He went into the cabin and exchanged a few words 
with the Captain, and soon afterward he met Tom 
Haines on deck. 

“ Say, Silburn,” Tom asked, “ what did you say 
was the name of the schooner your father was on 
when he was wrecked?” 

“ The Flower City ,” Kit answered, much surprised 
at the question. 

“ I thought so,” Tom went on. u Then I have 
some news for you.” 

a Don’t keep me in suspense over it, Tom,” Kit 
begged. “ You know how you would feel about it 
if it was your own father.” In spite of his 
efforts to remain cool he felt his hand shaking a 
little. 

“ Oh, don’t be excited about it,” Tom continued. 
“ I haven’t found your father, you know, or anything 
of that kind. But there’s a man aboard the ship who 
was before the mast on the Flower City when she 
was lost.” 

“ No ! ” Tom exclaimed. “ Then he’s the first one 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 1 43 

of the crew who has ever been heard of ! Now don’t 
keep me waiting, Tom ; where is the man ? ” 

“ He’s on deck, up forward,” Tom answered. “ It’s 
an old sailor they call Blinkey, because he has such 
a squint. He has a friend in our crew and came 
aboard to see him, and I happened to overhear him 
telling about his shipwreck in the Floiver City. I 
thought that was your father’s vessel, so I got into 
a talk with him and told him about you, and made 
him promise to wait till you came back. He knew 
your father very well.” 

“ Blinkey ! ” Kit repeated. “ Why, the very last 
time father was home he told us some funny stories 
about an old Irish sailor called Blinkey. It must be 
the same man.” 

He hurried forward, and soon found the old man 
talking to a group of the sailors, still telling of his 
adventures in the Western World. 

“ And you’re Mr. Silburn’s lad ! ” Blinkey ex- 
claimed, when Kit went up to him. “ A fine, well- 
growed lad, too, with the look of your daddy in 
your eyes. And you’re a-learnin’ this bad trade, are 
you?” 

One of the men nudged the old man and whispered 
that he was talking to the supercargo, whereupon he 
scraped the deck with one foot in lieu of a nod, 
pulled the peak of his cap, and gave the band of his 
trousers a nautical hitch. 

“ It’s beggin’ yer pardon I am,” he went on, “ me 
not knowin’ as how I was speakin’ to a officer. 


144 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


But it’s tlie fine man yer father is, lad — I mean 
Mr. Silburn. I never shipped with a better mate.” 

“ Is ! ” Kit exclaimed. “ Then do you know 
whether he is alive ? ” 

“ It’s not me that’s knowin’, sir,” Blinkey re- 
plied. “ He was in a good tight boat the last I 
set eyes on ’im, but there’s no sayin’. I was 
drownded mesilf in that wreck, an’ that was the 
third time. But a sailor havin’ nine lives, like a 
cat, I’ve six yet to dispose of.” 

Kit was kept in agony by the slowness of the old 
man in coming to the point and the frequent inter- 
ruptions of the sailors, so he took Blinkey up to his 
stateroom, where they could talk in peace. 

“ Now tell me about the voyage, Mr. — Mr. — ” 

“ Blinkey,” the old man interrupted. “ It’s so long 
since I’ve had any other I’ve forgot what it was. 
Well, sir, as I was a-sayin’, I shipped for Ameriky in 
the bark Margate , and she took fire an’ burnt in New 
York bay, so there was Blinkey out of a job. But I 
wasn’t a man in them days to stay long on shore, 
sir, so I looks about — ” 

“ Yes !” Kit interrupted, fearing that another long 
yarn was coming. “ But the Flower City .” 

“ I was a-gettin’ to that, sir,” the old man went 
on, without hastening in the least. “ So I looks 
about, as I was a-sayin’, an’ a berth offers on the 
Flower City , an’ I ships on her. Well, sir, we made 
two v’yages down the coast, an’ then we loaded with 
machinery for New Orleans. Ah, it was that there 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 


45 


machinery as done ns up, sir. All went well till we 
run into a gale off Hatteras ; an’ we’cl ’a’ pulled 
through that if the cargo’d been better stowed. But 
we had a heavy load on deck, an’ some of the big 
machines carried loose. Ah, it oughtn’t to be al- 
lowed, sir, that it oughtn’t, to carry heavy cargo on 
deck.” 

“ And then ? ” Kit asked. It was to him the most 
interesting thing he had ever listened to ; and the old 
man was so slow in coming to the point ! 

“ Then we give a lurch, sir, and oyer we went. 
Both our starboard boats was under water, but we’d 
two on the port side, an’ we took to them. Your 
father steered one, and the Captain the other, an’ I 
was in the Captain’s boat. Night was a-comin’ on, 
an’ the last I see of Mr. Silburn he was a-headin’ his 
boat about sou-sou-east, an’ us a-followin’. That was 
the last, sir.” 

“And you?” Kit asked. 

“Me, is it? I was drownded. Nex’ mornin’ we 
was all dead'. The sea was too heavy for a small boat 
well loaded, an’ that night a wave struck her an’ she 
went to pieces. I don’t know what I laid hold of 
when everything went from under us, but it must ’a’ 
been some of the wreckage ; for some time next day 
I found myself on board a Spanish brig, with a hole 
stove in the side of my head, an’ no notion of what 
had happened to me arter the boat went to pieces. 
The brig took me across the ocean to Barcelona, an’ 
after a while in hospital there I worked my way back 


46 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


to London. Since that crack on the head I haven’t 
been no use on a wessel, so I’ve got a job here in the 
big warehouses. An’ that’s the whole story, sir. 
What became o’ that there other boat is more nor I 
can say. But if it was my father as was in her, sir, 
I’d be a-lookin’ any day fer him to come home. She 
was a better boat than I was in, an’ you see I’m safe 
on shore, though I was drownded as dead as ever 
anybody was. Leastways, I hope Christopher Silburn 
didn’t come to no harm, for he was always werry 
kind to me, lad — always werry kind to me.” 

“ Thank you,” Kit said, in a husky voice, seeing 
that the old man seemed to feel badly over the prob- 
able loss of his former mate. “ But I have very little 
hope left, after what you tell me. Your being saved 
was almost a miracle, and we can hardly look for two 
miracles in the same shipwreck. You saw the Flower 
City go down, did you ? ” 

“ Went down right before our eyes, sir,” Blinkey 
answered, “ less than five minutes after we left her. 
She couldn’t do nothin’ else, sir, with them iron 
castin’s in her.” 

“Was there water in either boat?” Kit asked; 
“ or provisions, or a compass ? ” 

“ Nothin’ in neither boat but the seats an’ oars, sir,” 
Blinkey replied; “there wasn’t no time. Why, we 
couldn’t even lower the boats ; had to just cut ’em 
away, sir. An’ that reminds me. Did you ever see 
that before, sir ? ” 

As he spoke the old sailor put one hand into his 


NEWS FROM THE WRECKED SCHOONER. 1 47 

trousers pocket and drew forth a large iron-liandled 
pocket knife, such as sailors often carry. The handle 
was polished bright by long rubbing against the 
pocket and its other contents. 

“ See it before ! ” Kit exclaimed ; and his eyes 
moistened as he took the knife in his hand. “ I 
should think I had seen it before ! My father carried 
that knife as long as I can remember, and I often 
used to whittle with it when he was at home. Here’s 
a scar on the palm of my left hand now where I once 
cut myself with it.” 

“ Yes, sir, that was your father’s knife,” the old 
sailor answered. “ He handed it to me that last 
night to cut the boat’s lashings with. But he 
couldn’t wait to get it back, and I put it in my 
pocket. The knife belongs to you, my boy — Mr. 
Silburn, I mean. You must take it, sir.” 

“ Thank you,” Kit murmured, very willing to 
accept the gift. “ I am glad to have even that much 
from the wreck of the Flower City , though I hope for 
more. And I want to take down your address, so 
that I can find you in the future if necessary. 
Where will a letter reach you ? ” 

I don’t exactly know, sir,” the sailor replied, 
‘ for I haven’t had such a thing for many a day. I 
think if you was to direct it to Blinkey, an’ send it 
to the i Star an’ Garter ’ public house in Gravesend, 
though, sir, they’d know who it was for an’ git it 
to me.” 

While the old man was bowing and scraping him- 


48 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


self out, Kit slipped into his hand all the change he 
had left from the pound the Captain had given him, 
and then hurried through his supper. He had de- 
voted that evening to a long letter home, giving an 
account of the voyage and what he had seen in Lon- 
don. But now he had even a longer letter to write, 
and on a very different subject. 


CHAPTER IX. 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 



IHE unloading of a steamer in England, the 


-J- young supercargo soon found, is not the rapid 
process that it is in America, though much cheaper. 
The workmen receive smaller pay and move more 
slowly, the machinery is not so modern, none of the 
facilities as good. 

“ This is about halfway between New York and 
the West Indies,” Kit was forced to conclude, “in 
the way they do work. It must be true, as I have 
often heard, that ‘New York is the quickest unload- 
ing port in the world, and the most expensive.’ ” 

He tried at first to hurry the men up and so save 
money for his employers ; but it was uphill work for 
one young American to change the customs of centu- 
ries, and he had to let things take their course. 
Even the agents, he noticed, were in no hurry. 
When the sugar was all unloaded, there was no new 
cargo ready to take its place, and the four or five 
days that might have sufficed to make the North 
Cape ready for sea again, expanded into several 
weeks. So in spite of himself Kit had a good deal 


149 


50 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


of idle time while the ship lay at Gravesend — idle, 
that is, as far as his work was concerned; there were 
too many new things to be seen all around him, too 
many facts about London to be learned from the 
Captain’s books, for much of his time to be really 
unemployed. Frequently he had to go to the agents’ 
office in Fenchurch Street, and on those occasions 
whenever he had an hour or two to spare he took a 
“ ’bus ” to some other part of the city, taking care to 
remain in the same one till it reached its destination 
and then return in it, for fear of losing himself. 

One morning when there was no cargo to load and 
no prospect of any arriving, Captain Griffith sug- 
gested that they should go up together and have a 
look at the city. 

“ I speak of ‘ the city ’ in the same way as I 
should speak of it at home,” he added, “ meaning the 
whole town. I suppose you have learned that in 
London the part they call ‘ the city ’ is a very small 
section where most of the financial business is done ; 
so when a Londoner says he is going into the city, 
he means into that small and crowded part of the 
town. But I mean it in the larger sense, including 
the whole place, or as much of it as we have time 
to see.” 

“ Why, that will be fine, sir,” Kit replied. “ I 
have an appointment for this morning with young 
Mr. Watkins, one of our agents’ clerks. He is go- 
ing to show me something of London, and we will 
both enjoy it if you will go along.” 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 151 

“ Well, if you youngsters won’t think an old man 
in the road,” the Captain laughed, “ I will go with 
you. I once knew London pretty well ; but it is 
fifteen or eighteen years since I have seen much of 
it, and perhaps I will need a guide as much as 
you do.” 

On the way up in the train (it is always “up” 
when you go to London ; no matter if you start from 
the top of the highest mountain in Scotland, you 
speak of going “up to London”) Kit told the Cap- 
tain about the old sailor from the Flower City , and 
showed his father’s knife. 

“Do not set your hopes too high,” the Captain 
said after he had heard the story ; “ but I should 
look upon that as a very encouraging piece of news. 
It shows that their boats were sound and that the 
crew were still afloat after the schooner went down. 
As one man was saved, another may have been. 
There is still great doubt, of course; but I should 
continue to hope.” 

When they reached the Fenchurch Street office, 
they found Mr. Watkins waiting for Kit, still ar- 
rayed in a long black coat and high silk hat, but 
much newer and brighter ones than he wore while at 
work, and looking so stiff and starched that Kit had 
to laugh to himself to think what a figure he would 
cut in any American city at that hour of the 
morning. 

“Now where shall we go first?” the clerk asked, 
when they reached the street. 


152 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ I don’t want to interfere with any plans you may 
have made,” Captain Griffith answered, “ but if you 
have not settled upon any place, I suggest that we go 
first to see the Temple. That I consider one of the 
greatest curiosities of London — like a quiet country 
village set down in the very heart of the largest city 
in the world.” 

“Is it a church, sir? ” Kit asked. 

“ No, indeed ! ” the Captain laughed ; “ quite the 
opposite ; it is one of the headquarters of the London 
lawyers, though there is a fine old church in the 
grounds. But it is so different from anything we 
have in America that I can hardly explain it to you. 
You will soon see for yourself, if we go there.” 

“We can easily walk as far as the Temple,” Mr. 
Watkins said, “and you can always see more in 
walking than in riding. This way, right up Fen- 
church Street. The way we give the same street 
different names in London is puzzling to strangers, 
but you soon grow used to it. Now this is one of 
the chief thoroughfares running east and west ; and 
when you learn the principal ones, you can easily find 
your way about. I believe in your country each 
street bears the same name through its entire length, 
but it is not so here. For instance, this is Fenchurch 
Street. We keep right along in this street for miles, 
if we choose, but it has a great many different names. 
In a short distance the name changes to Lombard 
Street, then Cheapside, then Newgate Street, then 
Holborn Viaduct, then New Oxford Street, then 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 


153 


Oxford Street, then away out in the West End it 
becomes Bayswater Road, though it is really the 
same street all the way through. But we do not go 
as far as that. We will have a look at the Bank of 
England as we pass King William Street, then when 
we get to the end of Cheapside we will see the Post 
Office and St. Paul’s Cathedral, and cut through St. 
Paul’s Churchyard to Ludgate Hill, which will take 
us to Fleet Street, and there is the Temple.” 

“I believe I have heard of every one of those 
places before,” Kit exclaimed, as they made their 
way along the crowded street ; “ and I am glad we 
are going through St. Paul’s Churchyard. I have 
heard so much about the old London graveyards, and 
that must be one of the best of them.” 

Why did the Captain and Mr. Watkins look at each 
other and smile when he said this, Kit wondered. 

“ You will find that nearly every London name is 
familiar,” said the Captain, “if you have heard or 
read much about the place. But I am afraid you 
will be disappointed in St. Paul’s Churchyard, for it 
is not a burying-ground. It is only the name of a 
street ; all the graves were emptied long ago and the 
ground sold for business purposes.” 

“ Why, there are no windows in the Bank of Eng- 
land ! ” Kit cried, when they reached that great, low, 
square building occupying a whole block. 

“Plenty of them,” Mr. Watkins answered, “but 
not on the outside. These outer walls that you see 
are not really part of the building. The real build- 


154 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


ing is inside these walls, and separate. It has to be 
very strong and well guarded, you see, because so 
much money is kept there.” 

“ And that crowd in front of the big doors ! ” Kit 
went on. “ Why, it looks as if the bank had failed, 
and the depositors were trying to get their money.” 

“ Ah, that crowd ought to remind you of home,” 
said Mr. Watkins, laughing. “We often see such a 
crowd in front of the bank. The people are generally 
American tourists, ‘ Cook’s personally Conducted,’ 
we call them, and they are visiting the banks among 
the other sights. They are led about from one place 
to another like flocks of sheep.” 

“ You are seeing something of the world without 
being a ‘ personally conducted tourist,’ Silburn,” the 
Captain said. “We sailors have some advantages, 
after all.” 

“ I don’t think I should like to be led about like a 
sheep,” Kit laughed, “though I suppose it is cheaper 
and saves a lot of time. You must see a great many 
Americans in London, Mr. Watkins ; though of course 
you do not always know them wdien you see them.” 

“Oh, don’t we!” the clerk exclaimed. “They 
say there are always about forty thousand Americans 
here, and we can tell one the minute we lay eyes on 
him. They dress a little differently, you know ; and 
then when they speak they have such a different 
accent. I hope you’ll not mind my saying so.” 

“Not a bit of it!” the Captain answered; “give 
it to us. Turn about is only fair play, and we always 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 


155 


poke a little fun at the Englishmen in America ; when 
we see a stranger arrive with three or four big leather 
satchels, a leather hat-box, a tin bath-tub, and two 
or three steamer rugs, we know he is an Englishman 
before we hear him speak. We have a great many 
of them, too, and generally disappointed because they 
can’t shoot Indians in Broadway, or go buffalo hunt- 
ing on Boston Common. You English, somehow, are 
never happy unless you are shooting something. But 
if I am not mistaken that group of large buildings 
is the Post Office.” 

“Yes, sir, that is the Post Office,” Mr. Watkins 
answered. “ And I think you will have to admit 
that it is the best-managed Post Office you ever saw.” 

“Yes, I admit that cheerfully,” said the Captain. 
“ It is the very best in the world. I can send a let- 
ter from Gravesend in the morning to the further 
end of London, and have an answer the same after- 
noon. I could not do that in any city in America.” 

“ What, better than the New York Post Office, 
sir ! ” Kit exclaimed, in surprise. 

“ Much better managed,” the Captain replied ; 
“ very much better. And the police force here is much 
better than in any American city. Here, wait on 
this corner a minute, and see the ‘ bobby,’ as they 
call him, manage the great crush of vehicles and 
people. There, see that ! He just raises a finger, 
and every vehicle stops to let the people who have 
been waiting get across. And now that they have 
crossed he gives the slightest wave of the hand, and 


156 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


the vehicles start again. We have nothing like that 
at home. But wait a minute longer. There ! You 
see by raising a finger again he stops the whole line 
of vehicles going north and south, to let those pass 
that are going east or west ; and by another slight 
motion he stops the east and west ones, and opens 
the north and south street. Oh, it is beautifully 
done. Without such control there would be an end- 
less block in the streets. By the way, Silburn, I 
want you to watch this great ‘ traffic/ as they call it, 
in the streets, and tell me to-night what you think 
are the peculiarities of it ; and at the same time keep 
an eye on the public buildings, and tell me what you 
think of them.” 

“ Very well, sir,” Kit answered. “ But I can tell 
you now what I think of St. Paul’s. Oh, what a 
tremendous pile of stone ! Why, I never saw anything 
like it! What a handsome cathedral it would be if 
they would scrub it ! But it looks as dirty as if there 
had been a shower of ink.” 

The others laughed at this odd description, but had 
to admit that it was quite accurate — for St. Paul’s 
looks as if it needed a good scouring. Contenting 
themselves for the time with admiring the outside of 
the great building, they went on as far as Ludgate 
Circus, and turned southward into New Bridge Street 
instead of going on into Fleet Street. 

“ They have a circus here sometimes in this open 
space, I suppose ? ” Kit asked as they were crossing 
Ludgate Circus. 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. . 157 

“ Oh, no,” Mr. Watkins replied. “ There are a 
number of these ‘ circuses ’ in London — Regent’s 
Circus, Finsbury Circus, and so on. That does not 
mean that there is ever a circus in them. It is simply 
the old Roman way of designating a circle.” 

A short distance down New Bridge Street, which 
leads to Blackfriars Bridge, they turned to the right 
into Tudor Street, and in a few minutes went through 
one of the big gateways into the grounds of the 
Temple. It was indeed, as the Captain had said, like 
going into a country village, in the green grass, the 
noble trees, the delicious quiet, though separated only 
by a wall from the busiest part of the world’s busiest 
city. 

“ This is historical ground we are on,” Mr. Watkins 
said as they walked in. “ Though given up to the 
lawyers now, this was originally the quarters of the 
Knights Templars of Jerusalem — the order estab- 
lished for the defence of the Holy Sepulchre, you 
know. That was nearly nine hundred years ago, and 
of course there were not as many buildings here in 
those days. Then it was taken from them and fell 
into the hands of the Knights of St. John, and later 
on it became the property of the lawyers of the 
higher courts, who still hold it. They have their 
offices in these buildings, and many of them live here 
with their families. Some of the buildings are nearly 
a thousand years old, and some are quite modern. A 
beautiful place to live, isn’t it, almost in a park, but 
with the city just outside the gate ? ” 


i 5 8 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Why, there must be fifteen or twenty of these big 
buildings ! ” Kit exclaimed ; 66 and are they all full of 
lawyers ? ” 

“ All full of lawyers/’ the clerk answered, smiling. 
“And there goes one of the lawyers. He is on his 
way to court, as you can tell by his wearing his wig. 
You know the barristers always wear a big wig in 
court. Do you see that little shop over there by the 
arches ? That is the shop of a wig-maker who does 
business here and makes most of the wigs. He has to 
pay well for the privilege of doing business here, too.” 

“ But wigs ! ” Kit asked. “ What do they wear 
wigs for ? They’re not all bald, are they ? ” 

“ Oh, no ! ” Watkins laughed. “ They wear them 
because that has been the custom for hundreds of 
years — wigs and long black gowns, whenever they 
appear in court. We never change old custom here, 
you know. If our great-grandfathers did a thing, 
we think that sufficient reason for our doing it too. 
But turn up this way ; I want to show you the Tem- 
ple Church. I think it will interest you, for it is the 
Church the old Templars used to worship in ; it was 
built in 1185.” 

They went through the big Gothic doorway of the 
Temple Church, where a guide took them in hand 
and pointed out all the curiosities. Under the dome 
at the front was a large open space, where there lay 
stretched full length on the floor a dozen or more 
life-size figures of men clad in armor, and all black 
like tarnished bronze. 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 


159 


“ Some have their legs crossed, you will notice,” 
the guide explained, “and others lie out straight. 
Those with crossed legs were the Knights of the 
Cross, the others their squires and followers. The 
legs are crossed so as to make the sign of the cross, 
you know. You would hardly believe that the figures 
are made of white marble, would you ? Yes, sir, all 
white marble ; they are so old that they have turned 
black.” 

In the other part of the church, nearer the pulpit, 
he showed them the handsomely carved pews that the 
lawyers sit in, and explained that after attending ser- 
vice on Sunday mornings the occupants go into the 
great hall to dine together in state. “It is always a 
fine banquet,” he added, “ so they are pretty regular 
in their attendance at church. Do you see that little 
tower on the side, with just a slit for a window ? That 
was once the Temple prison where unruly knights were 
confined ; sometimes they were left there to starve.” 

After inspecting the church they turned to the 
right into a narrow court between the church and 
some other large buildings, where a number of tomb- 
stones marked the graves of eminent persons. Most 
of the stones were carved with armorial bearings, 
showing that the persons beneath had been lords or 
dukes or other noblemen ; but one tomb without any 
such pompous tracing attracted Kit’s attention. 

“ Why, look here ! ” he cried. “ This says, ‘ Here 
lies Oliver Goldsmith ! ’ One of the best books I 
ever read (it was called the ‘Vicar of Wakefield’) 


l6o THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

was by a man named Oliver Goldsmith. I don’t 
suppose it can be the same one, though.” 

“ It is the very one,” the Captain told him. 
“ There may have been a thousand Oliver Gold- 
smiths in the world, but still there was only one. 
See what a beautiful inscription it is. All the coro- 
nets and coats-of-arms in the world could not make 
a tomb as interesting at those simple words , 4 Here 
lies Oliver Goldsmith.’ A man could hardly pass 
that tomb without stopping to look at it.” 

“ Well ! ” Kit exclaimed, “ I never thought I should 
see his grave.” 

“ Oh, a great many celebrated men have been asso- 
ciated with these Temples,” Mr. Watkins explained. 
“ Dr. J ohnson once lived here, you know, and one of 
the newer buildings is called Dr. Johnson’s building.” 

“By the way,” the Captain interrupted, “that re- 
minds me. It is time we had something to eat, and 
I want you both to take lunch with me after we go 
down and have a look at the gardens.” 

While they walked through the beautiful Temple 
gardens, with their fountains, flower-beds, and gi- 
gantic trees, with the Thames flowing in front and 
the great series of Temple buildings in the rear, Kit 
wondered how speaking of Dr. Johnson reminded the 
Captain of eating lunch. He could not at the time 
see any connection between them, but he saw it a 
few minutes later. 

“ Let us go out this way,” the Captain said, “ into 
the Strand. I have not been here for many years, 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. l6l 

but these old places do not change much. I know 
of a very good restaurant not far from here.” 

In the Strand they turned to the right, and a few 
steps took them into Fleet Street, where the Captain 
soon stopped and guided them into a narrow alley 
bearing the sign, “ Wine Office Court.” A few feet 
up the court, on the right-hand side, they went 
through a doorway that looked nearly as old as any- 
thing about the Temple, and so into a restaurant with 
old-fashioned high-backed benches, stiff old chairs, 
heavy oak tables, and a fireplace that looked as if it 
might have been used by the Crusaders. 

“ You take that seat at the end of the table, in 
the corner, Silburn,” the Captain said, “ and Mr. 
Watkins and I will take the sides. We don’t have 
to consider here about what we will eat, because the 
great dish is a chop and a baked potato, with some 
of the baked Cheshire cheese to finish up on. You 
know the name of this place is ‘ The Olde Cheshire 
Cheese.’ I was reminded of it as soon as Mr. Wat- 
kins spoke of Dr. Johnson.” 

“ This is one of the famous old eating-houses of 
London, Silburn,” the Captain continued. “ I wanted 
to bring you here because I saw you reading my 
‘Boswell’s Life of Johnson’ the other day, so I 
thought it would interest you.” 

“Oh, he must have been a great man, sir,” Kit 
answered. “ I am very much interested in that book.” 

“ Well, look at that brass plate on the wall just 
over your head,” the Captain laughed. 


62 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


Kit turned liis head and read the words, cut in a 
small brass plate that was screwed to the wall, 
“The seat of Dr. Samuel Johnson.” 

“ Why, what does that mean, sir ! ” Kit exclaimed. 
“ That can’t be the man I have been reading about ! ” 

“ It is the very man,” the Captain declared. “ This 
restaurant is so old that it was here in his day, and 
it w r as his favorite eating-place. And that exact seat 
where you are sitting was his favorite place, where 
he sat every day to eat his dinner while he talked 
with many of the famous men you read of in the 
book. You see you are on the track of famous 
people to-day.” 

“ I feel as if I were a sort of character in a book,” 
Kit replied, “ instead of a real American eating chops 
and baked potatoes ; such chops, too ! this is a great 
country for chops, but I don’t think much of their 
oysters. I tried some a few days ago, and they tasted 
soapy, as if they had been raised in a wash-tub. 
Then when I went into a drug store to look at a 
directory they charged me a penny for the privilege. 
Think of paying two cents to look at a directory! 
But those are small matters. It is an event in a 
fellow’s life to be sitting where the great Dr. John- 
son used to sit, and to see the grave of such a man 
as< Oliver Goldsmith. I can hardly realize it.” 

“ Oh, we will associate with some more noted 
people before we stop,” the Captain replied. “ If 
you both feel like it, we will take a hansom down to 
Westminster Abbey when we finish here, where you 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 163 

can see the tombs of more celebrated Englishmen 
than you have ever beard of. It is a good place for 
a young man to go, for he naturally begins to inquire 
about the great people who are buried there, and to 
read about them.” 

When the lunch was concluded and they were 
about to go, Mr. Watkins made a remark. It was 
something that he had been thinking about half 
through the meal ; for it was intended to be a joke, 
and an Englishman approaches a joke as cautiously 
as a good driver nearing a railway crossing. 

“ I suppose there will be a new plate on the wall 
next time you come here, Mr. Silburn,” he said. 

“ Why so ? ” Kit asked. 

“Well,” said Watkins, “you see that plate says, 
4 The seat of Dr. Samuel Johnson.’ Now they will 
have another one under it, I have no doubt, adding, 
‘ Also of Mr. Supercargo Silburn.’ ” 

“ Oh, I’ve no doubt of it,” Kit replied. “ I ought to 
laugh at the joke, but I really cawn’t, don’t you know, 
after that big chop and potato.” He tried to imitate 
the English manner of speaking; but if that was 
another joke, it was all lost on Mr. Watkins. 

The three crowded into a hansom and were soon 
set down in front of Westminster Abbey, and for the 
next hour Kit had eyes for nothing but the long 
rows of tombs. The architecture might have sur- 
prised him under other circumstances, but no archi- 
tecture was as interesting to him as the burial-place 
of so many famous people he had heard of. The 


164 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


tomb of David Livingstone was one of the first that 
caught his eye. Then he found Sir Isaac Newton’s, 
and those of Browning and Tennyson side by side, 
and Shakespeare, Dr. Johnson, Lord Macaulay, a bust 
of Longfellow, and scores, hundreds of others whose 
names he had at least heard. 

“ Shall we go in among the tombs of the kings ? ” 
Captain Griffith asked at length. 

“ Not on my account, sir,” Kit replied ; “ I don’t 
want to spoil the effect of these great people by look- 
ing at a lot of mere kings.” 

“ You mustn’t mind my young friend’s disparage- 
ment of your kings, Mr. Watkins,” the Captain 
laughed ; “ he is a thorough young American, and 
we don’t raise kings over there to any great extent. 
But it will suit me not to spend any more time here. 
What do you say to having a look at the town from 
the top of Primrose Hill, with just a glance into the 
British Museum as we pass it?” 

Both “ the boys,” as the Captain called them, were 
pleased with this proposition, and he called another 
hansom to take them first to the British Museum. 
There Mr. Watkins took pains to show them the in- 
teresting parts, and Kit was particularly interested 
in the mummies and their curious casings. What he 
wanted most to see, however, was the great library, 
one of the largest in the world ; and he was disap- 
pointed when told that it was impossible to get into 
the reading-room without a ticket^ which could be 
had only with a deal of red tape. 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 


165 


“ I don’t believe they would let the Prince of 
Wales in without a ticket,” the young clerk said, 
“ so I am sure we have no chance.” 

There was no disappointment, however, about the 
view from the summit of Primrose Hill. They drove 
around through Hampstead to reach the hill from 
the rear, and when they stood on its very top the 
whole of London seemed to lie at their feet. 

“ Ah, it is a grand sight ! ” Mr. Watkins exclaimed. 
“We Londoners never tire of looking at it, though 
it is an old story with us. You see what a deep 
valley the city lies in, with the Thames running 
through the middle of it. The hills on the other 
side of the valley are in Surrey and Kent, two of our 
English counties. And do you see that blazing fire 
near the top of the Surrey Hills ? It looks like fire, 
but that is the Crystal Palace with the sun shining 
upon it.” t 

“ Yes, it is a grand sight,” the Captain said. A And 
you must not forget, Silburn, that you are looking 
at this moment at the homes of more people than you 
can see from any other spot on earth. Here are six 
millions of people living between us and those opposite 
hills — more people than there are in the kingdom 
of Belgium, and nearly as many as there are in the 
whole of Canada. You never saw such a view as 
this before.” 

“ No, sir, I never did,” Kit admitted ; “ it is a 
great sight ; but I can’t help wondering why they 
built such a big city down in such a hollow. No 


1 66 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

wonder they have such thick fogs here. I suppose 
you’ll laugh at me for it, but I think our hills out 
in Fairfield County are much handsomer. I should 
rather live in Huntington than in London.” 

“ Well, I like to hear you tell the truth about it,” 
the Captain laughed. “ Some Americans who come 
over here think they must praise everything because 
it is the fashion to do so. These Europeans like to 
boast of their own countries, but they seem to immi- 
grate to America pretty fast. Eh, how is that, Mr. 
Watkins ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, they do,” the young clerk answered. 
“ And I am one of them. If I had half a chance, I 
should go to America myself.” 

The setting sun gave warning to the siglit-seers 
that it was time to bring their excursion to an end. 
Both Kit and the Captain urged Watkins to return 
to Gravesend and eat supper with them on the North 
Cape; but he still had work to do in the office, and 
the party separated in Trafalgar Square, Captain Grif- 
fith and Kit taking a ’bus to the Fenchurch Street 
station, whence a train soon carried them to Tilbury, 
opposite Gravesend. 

“ Now, Silburn,” the Captain said that evening 
while they sat in the cabin, u I want you to answer 
those questions I asked you to-day. What have you 
to say about the traffic in the London streets?” 

“ They are the most crowded streets I ever saw, 
sir,” Kit answered ; “ but it does not seem to me that 
there is any more business done in them than in a 


KIT INSPECTS LONDON. 


1 67 


great many other streets I have seen. I looked out 
for big trucks, express wagons, baggage vans, and 
such things, but did not see a great many. The 
crowding seemed to me to be done by the great num- 
of ’buses and hansoms. If the ’buses were taken 
away, there would be no great crowd in the London 
streets. So if they had the same modern means of 
transit that we have in our American cities, fast 
cable and electric cars and such things, there would 
be plenty of room.” 

“And the public buildings?” the Captain asked. 

“ Some of them must have been very fine when 
they were new, sir,” Kit replied; “but they are so 
dark with smoke and dirt and age that they make a 
fellow feel gloomy. I should think the Londoners 
would have the blues most all the time, with their 
dark buildings and those terrible fogs. It is a great 
place, of course ; but somehow it doesn’t seem to me 
exactly like a city. It seems more like a lot of big 
villages that have grown together.” 

“Ah, they’re not going to make an Englishman 
of you, that’s certain ! ” the Captain laughed. “But 
you are right in both the opinions you have given. 
It is the lack of quick transit that crowds the streets; 
and modern London is not exactly a city, but a col- 
lection of large towns that have grown together. 
You will be quite an expert in cities some day, if you 
study their points so carefully.” 


CHAPTER X. 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 

THINK it’s a mean way to treat a fellow, Kit,” 



JL Harry Leonard complained when they were 
alone together. “ Oh, you needn’t think I’m going 
to be calling you Mr. Silburn when nobody else can 
hear. I want a chance to see something of London, 
and you know very well it’s only fair I should have. 
I haven’t been allowed ashore since we came into 
the Thames. You always used to go ashore when 
you were cabin boy, for you’ve told me so.” 

“ That was a little different,” Kit exclaimed. “ I 
was doing a supercargo’s work when I was cabin 
boy, and I had t© go ashore on business. But I 
think the Captain will let you go up to town if you 
ask him. I know he likes you, from the way he 
speaks of you. You’re a very different boy, Harry, 
if you don’t mind my saying so, from what you were 
when you came on board. We all have to learn, I 
suppose, that we don’t get things for favors, but by 
working for them, and you are doing your work 


well.” 


“ Thawnk you very much, Mr. Supercargo ! ” Harry 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 169 

retorted, taking off his cap in mock humility. “ I 
like to be appreciated by my superiors.” 

“Well, it’s a fact,” Kit laughed. “I’ll tell you 
what I’ll do. All this stuff on the wharf will be 
aboard by two or three o’clock, and if you like I will 
ask the Captain to let you go up to London with me 
after that. You know it is daylight here till eight 
or nine o’clock in the evening.” 

“ Hooray for you ! ” Harry shouted. “If you ask, 
it’s a sure thing, for you get whatever you want. 
I wish I had such a pull with the Captain as you 
have.” 

“ I have no ‘ pull ’at all — ” Kit started to say ; 
but he was interrupted by footsteps on the com- 
panionway, and a moment later Captain Griffith 
entered the cabin with a handful of letters. 

“ There seems to be something for most everybody 
in this lot,” he said, laying the letters upon the big 
table and looking them over. “ Captain Griffith, 
Captain Griffith, Mr. Mason, Mr. Christopher Silburn, 
Mr. Hanway, Mr. Christopher Silburn — here are two 
for you, Silburn, so your folks have not forgotten 
you.” 

Kit saw at a glance that one of the letters was 
from his mother and the other from Yieve ; and the 
one from his mother was so large and thick that it 
rather alarmed him. He went to the corner of the 
long sofa and hurriedly opened it, and found two 
enclosures, besides a page or two in his mother’s 
handwriting. 


170 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ We are so flustered by these letters that we don’t 
know what to do,” Mrs. Silburn wrote. “ But your 
sister and I both think that the best thing will be to 
send them right over to you, so that you will be sure 
to get them before you leave London. We have 
kept copies, in case they should be lost. Oh, Kit, do 
you think there is any chance that this man may be 
your dear father ? I am afraid it is only exciting 
our hopes in vain, but we ought to do something 
about it, though we don’t know what. How could 
we ever get along without a great, big man like our 
Kit to advise us ? ” 

After reading this mysterious introduction Kit 
turned hurriedly to the enclosures. The first was 
on a sheet headed “ Bryant & Williams, Bridgeport, 
Conn.,” whom he immediately recognized as the 
owners of his father’s schooner, the Flower City. 

Mrs. Christopher Silburn, Huntington, Conn, [the letter 
began] : 

Please find enclosed a copy of a letter we have just received 
from the State Department at Washington, which explains it- 
self. We have sent similar copies to the families of all the 
members of the crew of the schooner Flower City , as far as they 
are known. While we have slight hopes that the person re- 
ferred to in the letter may have been a member of that unfortu- 
nate crew, we deem it only right to lay the information before 
you, that you may take whatever measures seem to you proper. 

Very respectfully yours, 

Bryant & Williams. 

Kit was beginning by this time to chafe over the 
delay in getting at the mysterious information. But 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. \J\ 


the other enclosure must give it, and he quickly un- 
folded the sheet. 

State Department, Washington, D. C. [it began]. 

Office of the Fourth Assistant Secretary. 

Folio GxE. No. 2814 F. 

Messrs. Bryant & Williams, Bridgeport, Conn. 

Dear Sirs : The department is informed by the Consulate 
at Wellington, New Zealand, that a patient who has been in 
the public hospital there for some months is supposed to be a 
shipwrecked American sailor. This man was landed in Well- 
ington from the British ship, Prince Albert , having been picked 
up by that ship on the 27th of June last on a small unnamed 
island in the Pacific Ocean, where his three companions had 
died of hardship and starvation, and where he was reduced to 
such a mental and physical condition that he was unable to 
move or give any account of himself. 

Since his reception in the hospital he has been restored to 
physical health, but he is still unable to give his name or 
place of residence, though from certain tests that have been 
applied it is believed that he is a native-born American citi- 
zen. He is of medium height with gray hair and beard, and 
looks sixty years old, though he is probably much younger. 

The Life Saving Service has supplied this department with 
a list of all the American vessels that have been lost within 
the last two years; and a copy of this letter is sent to the 
owners of each of such lost vessels, as far as they can be 
traced, to enable them to communicate with the families of 
the lost crews. 

Bequests for information on the subject should be addressed 
to the Chairman of the Board of Governors, Public Hospital, 
Wellington, New Zealand; or to the American Consulate at 
that port. 

Yours, etc., 

H. B. Battaway, 

Chief Clerk to Fourth Assistant Secretary. 


72 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


On opening the letter from Vieve he found that 
it was full of questions and surmises about the mys- 
terious man in New Zealand, so he put that in his 
pocket to be read later on. The State Department 
letter was too important to let anything interfere 
with it. He read it again and again, and tried to 
estimate what the chances were that this man might 
be his missing father. Suppose there were twenty 
lost vessels, each with a crew of twenty men ? That 
would give only one chance in four hundred. But 
one chance in forty thousand, he thought, w^ould be 
a great thing. Sixty years old ? His father was not 
nearly as old as that ; and there was not a gray hair 
in his head. But who could say what suffering he 
might have gone through, or what changes it might 
have made in his appearance ? 

It was hard work to put those letters into his 
pocket and go on quietly checking his lists as the 
cargo came aboard ; but it was necessary, and Kit 
did it. The engagement he had just made with 
Harry Leonard must be postponed, for he must have 
time to think, and then time to write some letters. 
But what was he to write ? 

All through the morning and until the last case of 
cargo on the wharf was put in the hold and duly 
checked off, the young supercargo stuck manfully to 
his work. Harry Leonard was disappointed when 
told that his trip to London would have to be put off, 
but when Kit explained the reason Harry was more 
than willing to wait. 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 1 73 

“ Why, they’d give him a big reception in Hunt- 
ington,” he exclaimed, “ if your father should come 
home alive.” 

With all his thinking Kit could not decide upon 
a better course than to show the letters to Captain 
Griffith and ask his advice. “ He knows more in 
five minutes than I know in a week,” he said to him- 
self, “ and his advice it sure to be good. It’s a 
valuable thing to have good friends to go to when 
you need advice.” 

Captain Griffith, as he expected, was very much 
interested when he heard the contents of Kit’s letter. 
First he listened while Kit read the letter from the 
State Department, and then took it and read it care- 
fully over himself. Then he got out a map to 
look at the position of Wellington, New Zealand. 

For some minutes he leaned back in his revolving- 
chair, looking hard at the ceiling, deep in thought. 

“ It’s a strange case, Silburn,” he said at length. 
“ I’ve been trying to figure out what happened to 
your father when his schooner went down. They 
took to the boats, and in the heavy sea your father’s 
boat went to pieces. He kept afloat on some piece 
of wreckage, and in the morning he was seen and 
picked up by a passing ship. She was an American 
ship, I should say, bound ’round the Horn for San 
Francisco or the northwest coast. But when they 
got into the Pacific that second ship was wrecked, 
and your father and three others made their way to 
a little island, where he was afterwards picked up 


174 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


by the British vessel and carried to New Zealand. 
Yes, it is all plain enough.” 

“ Why, Captain ! ” Kit cried ; “ do you really 
think so, sir ?” 

“ I don’t say that I think so, or that I don’t think 
so,” the Captain answered. “ I wanted to see 
whether there was any reasonable theory by which 
I could account for your father’s being found on a 
desolate little island in the Pacific. I see that there 
is ; it might easily have happened just as I have 
described it. So we begin by knowing that it is 
possible that this man may be your father. And 
having reached that point we came to a sudden stop 
through somebody’s remarkable stupidity. Do you 
see how badly this inquiry has been managed ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” Kit answered, a I think I do. They 
ought to have sent a photograph of the man and a 
full description.” 

“ Of course they ought ! ” the Captain declared, 
thumping his fist down on the desk. “ The fullest 
description possible — his height, weight, color of his 
eyes, condition of his teeth, marks on his body, every 
possible particular. I suppose we must be satisfied 
that the State Department has taken the trouble to 
give even this much information about the case ; 
but it would have been easy to give a little more. 
However, this oversight does not put an end to the 
business; it only entails a great waste of time. Now 
you have been thinking about this thing all day ; 
what has it occurred to you ought to be done ? ” 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 1 75 

“ Well, sir,” Kit answered, “it seemed to me that 
the best way would be to write to the American 
consul at Wellington, and ask him to send a descrip- 
tion of the man. If it is my father, he is nothing 
like sixty years old, but what he has gone through 
may make him look much older than he really is.” 

“ That’s it,” the Captain agreed. “ That is exactly 
the proper thing for you to do. And write from 
here, at once ; but have the answer sent to your 
home in America, for there is no telling where you 
may be. Now tell me something about your father. 
How tall a man was he ? ” 

“ He was just five feet ten and a half inches, sir,” 
Kit replied. “ I remember that very well, because 
he used to measure me when I was little and say, ‘ I 
wonder whether you will ever be as tall as your father, 
youngster ? ’ It hardly looked likely then, but I am 
within about an inch of that now, and still growing.” 

“Very well ; put that down on this slip of paper; 
height, five feet ten and a half inches. Was he 
stout, or slender?” 

“ Just about medium, sir,” Kit went on ; “I think 
he weighed about one hundred and sixty pounds. 
And he was dark in the hands and face, from the 
sun, and had dark brown eyes and hair to match, the 
hair just a little bit curly, like mine.” 

“Put it all down,” the Captain said. “Were his 
teeth good or bad ? ” 

“ Oh, he had beautiful teeth, sir,” Kit declared. 
“ He never had to go to the dentist’s, and they were 


iy6 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


as white and regular — well, I used to tell him they 
were almos't as handsome as a set of false ones.” 

“Put it down,” the Captain repeated. “And do 
you know whether there were any marks on his 
body that he could be identified by ? ” 

“ The only mark I know of was a long scar on his 
left temple, sir,” Kit answered, “ running down like 
this;” and he drew a finger across ‘his own temple 
to show the direction. “ He got that when he had 
such a narrow escape from being killed. A block 
fell from aloft and came just near enough to make 
a gash in his skin. A quarter of an inch more 
would have killed him on the spot, of course ; but he 
only laughed at it when he told us about it.” 

“Ah, that is a good point; put it down. A man 
may lose his teeth, or grow fat or thin, or his hair 
turn gray, but he never can get rid of a scar. That 
cut on the temple will go further than anything else 
to tell us whether this is your father or not. Now 
when you write to the consul tell him all these 
things that you have told me, and as much more as 
you can think of. And there is another thing. To 
make such an inquiry as this, and get your father 
home, if it proves to be your father, will cost some 
money. You are willing to spend whatever you 
can afford, I suppose ? ” 

“ Why, Captain,” Kit exclaimed, “ what would I 
care for money in exchange for my father ! I would 
sell the last shirt off my back just to hear that he is 
alive. And we could raise a little money in Hunting- 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 1 77 

bon, if it came to the worst. I know mother would 
spend her last cent to find him. But I think I can 
manage it myself, if it does not cost too much.” 

“ Well, Silburn,” the Captain said, laying his hand 
on Kit’s shoulder,* “ you have a good name, and that 
is always something to fall back on. I have a little 
money that I have saved year after year, and if you 
need more than you think, I will lend you a few hun- 
dred, and you can pay me interest on it and pay it off 
gradually. I should consider it quite as safe in your 
hands as if it remained in the bank.” 

“ Thank you, Captain,” Kit answered. “ I am 
more grateful to you than I can tell you. But it will 
be months before we can hear from the consul, and 
by that time I shall have a little more money of my 
own. I want to send him a little money in the letter 
and ask him to have a photograph taken of the man 
in the hospital. If it is my father, I think we should 
recognize him, no matter how much he is changed.” 

“That is a capital idea,” the Captain assented; 
“ and by writing from here your letter will get to 
New Zealand much sooner than if you sent it from 
America.” 

That evening Kit had his hands full with letter- 
writing. There was one to be written to his mother, 
and one to Vieve, and a note to Bryant & Williams, 
thanking them for their letter, and last of all, a long 
one to the consul at Wellington, in which he gave 
the fullest possible description of his father. 

“ The -mention of some familiar names,” he wrote, 


1 78 


. THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ might cause him to remember things that he has 
forgotten, if, as I hope, it proves to be my father. He 
lives in Huntington, Connecticut, opposite the church, 
and my mother’s name is Emily Silburn. His two 
children are Genevieve and Christopher Silburn ; he 
always called us Yieve and Kit. Our dog’s name is 
Turk. The Flower City was the schooner he was 
wrecked on. The scar I have mentioned looks 
whiter than the rest of his face. If he seems to rec- 
ognize any of these names, that will be pretty good 
evidence that he is Christopher Silburn.” 

“ Ah, my ! ” Kit said to himself, rubbing his eyes 
after finishing the long letter, “ this not knowing 
whether you have a father or not is bad business. 
But just suppose we should see him sitting again in 
his old chair in Huntington ! I mustn’t think of that, 
though, for it may be only preparing for a disappoint- 
ment.” 

Captain Griffith approved of the letter to the con- 
sul when he read it ; and when Kit asked permission 
for Harry Leonard to go up to London with him next 
day, it was given immediately. 

“ I don’t like to have my boys going into these big 
towns alone, getting into mischief,” he said ; “ but if 
Harry goes with you, that is a different matter. You 
know you are not a boy any more, but a supercargo ; 
and you must keep Harry straight. By the way, 
Silburn, stand out there in the light a minute till I 
look at you. There ; that is just the way 1 stood 
you out the night I rescued you from the policeman 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 1 79 

in Brooklyn. Do you know it occurred to me while 
you were describing your father this afternoon that 
you were giving almost an exact description of your- 
self ? You must be very much like him.” 

“ I am glad to hear it, sir,” Kit laughed, “ for he 
was always called a fine-looking man.” 

When the Captain’s two “ boys ” took the ferry- 
boat over to Tilbury in the morning, Harry was like 
a young colt in a spring pasture. No wonder, either, 
for he had not set foot off the North Capes deck 
before since she left New York. He was full of fun 
now that he was away from the restraint of the ship, 
and, like Kit, he was not disposed to admire every- 
thing simply because it was in a foreign country; 
on the contrary, most things he saw he regarded as 
fair game for ridicule. 

“And they call these things cars, do they?” he 
asked, when they were seated alone in one of the 
compartments of the train. “ Well, they look to me 
very much like our coal cars in America, with roofs 
put on them. I suppose they have such little win- 
dows because larger ones would be of no use ; you 
never can see more than fifty yards in this country, 
on account of the fog. Did you ever see such a 
foggy hole ? I know now why the sun never sets on 
the Queen’s dominions : it’s because it never rises, 
‘ don-clier-know ? ’ What do they want with an old 
Queen here, anyhow ? I guess if a President’s good 
enough for us, it’s good enough for them.” 

“ I always thought you were an Irishman, Harry,” 


i8o 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


Kit laughed ; “ now I’m sure of it, from the way you 
find fault with the English. Wait till you see Lon- 
don ; you may change your mind then.” 

“ Oh, London ! ” Harry sneered. “ You’d think 
the sun rose out of the Thames and set in Bucking- 
ham Palace, to hear these Britishers talk. I’ll bet it’s 
not as fine a city as Bridgeport. Look at the big 
factories they have there, and the new court-house, 
and the — ” 

“ We may as well get out here,” Kit interrupted, 
“ as this is Fenchurch Street station and the end of 
the line. I don’t believe they’ll carry us any fur- 
ther.” He found it very entertaining and novel to 
act as a guide to London, particularly with a com- 
panion who looked upon everything from such original 
standpoints as Harry, and who was so determined to 
see nothing equal to America in the British capital. 

Harry was so much interested in Kit’s accounts of 
the mummies and other curiosities in the British 
Museum, that they took a hansom and drove to the 
Museum first. 

“ This sort of thing will do occasionally in Lon- 
don,” Kit said, “ where a cab costs a shilling. But 
we’ll have to come down to street cars again, or 
walking, when we get back to America.” 

“ Where are the high buildings, Kit?” Harry 
asked, after they had gone a few blocks. u These 
are all small affairs, so far. Can’t we have him drive 
past some of the tall buildings ? ” 

“ I’m afraid we should have hard work to find 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 1 8 1 


any,” Kit answered. “ I have seen no buildings 
here more than six or eight stories high.” 

“ Six or eight stories ! ” Harry cried ; “ and they 
call this a great city! Why, there are some buildings 
in New York twenty-six stories high, and lots of 
them from twenty to twenty- five stories. Yes, it’s 
just as I expected : they brag so much about London, 
but I don’t believe it’s ‘in it’ at all beside America. 
They can’t fool me with their mummies, either, for 
I saw some in a museum in New York when I was 
there. I know a thing or two about dried Egyptians.” 

As he was prepared to find fault with the mum- 
mies, it was not hard to be disappointed in them. 
“ They’re a very ordinary lot,” he declared when he 
saw them. “ Those in New York were all kings and 
emperors and such things, but these are just common 
people. They don’t look as life-like, either. Why, 
those fellows in New York seemed just ready to sit 
up and eat their dinner.” 

Some mention being made of Buckingham Palace, 
Harry immediately became anxious to see it. “ Not 
that I suppose it amounts to much,” he explained, 
“ but we may as well see what sort of tenement 
houses they lodge their royal family in. Royal 
family, indeed ! Why, in our country we’d elect a 
new queen every year or two if we had to have one 
at all.” 

“Very well,” Kit assented; “I should rather like 
to see Buckingham Palace, too, and we can have a 
look at the Thames Embankment at the same time. 


i 82 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


We can walk over to Gower Street station and take 
the underground road to St. Janies Park station, and 
that is near the Palace. We both want to see the 
great underground railway, of course.” 

Feeling surer of making his way in the main 
streets, Kit led Harry to Tottenham Court Road, and 
turned up Euston Road to the Gower Street station. 
In Euston Road they found a great many openings 
in the street and in the yards on each side, through 
which poured clouds of sulphurous smoke. 

“ Bah ! ” Harry cried, as one of the dirty clouds 
enveloped and half choked them; “ there must be a 
sulphur mine underneath here, and it’s caught fire. 
Or do you suppose it’s a match factory ? ” 

“ I suppose these must be airholes for the under- 
ground road,” Kit replied ; “ for it runs under this 
street. But I don’t see how the people can stand 
such rank smoke, that’s a fact. And it’s cheerful to 
think that that’s the air we will have to breathe in 
the underground train.” 

They bought their tickets for St. James Park 
station and went down two long and dirty stairways 
into the bowels of the earth, where they found a long 
cave arched with smoky bricks, dimly lighted with a 
half-dozen gas-jets, with a very dirty platform on 
each side and two tracks between them. Twenty or 
thirty other persons were waiting for the train, all 
breathing the thick smoky atmosphere, that coated 
their throats and made them cough. 

In two or three minutes a faint rumbling began in 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 183 

one of the dark tunnels leading out of each end of 
the cave ; and the rumbling grew louder and louder 
till it became a roar, and the train drew up. There 
was a great banging of doors, people got out and 
others got in, Kit and Harry scrambled into an 
empty compartment, and in a few seconds the lights 
of the platform faded away and they were in dark- 
ness save for a very dim gas-jet in the roof of the 
car. 

“ Now this is real luxury ! ” Harry laughed. 
“ Everything you touch is black as a chimney, and 
the air you breathe is thick enough to cut. These 
tunnels would make good sewers, Kit. But do you 
think our folks would believe the Londoners really 
ride through such holes in the ground ? Ain’t it 
simply frightful ? ” 

“ I shall have to agree with you this time,” Kit 
answered. “ I had no idea the underground roads 
were as bad as this. It would be a terrible place for 
an accident, wouldn’t it, in these dark caves ? ” 

They went on and on past station after station, 
and after half an hour of jolting and half suffocating 
Kit began to suspect that he must have made some 
mistake, for it was less than a mile from Gower 
Street to St. James Park. He took out his map and 
examined it as well as he could under the feeble 
light. 

“See here, I’ll tell you what we’ve done,” he 
explained, “ we’ve taken an outer circle train. You 
know this underground road runs in a small inner 


184 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


circle and a big outer circle. And we’re in the wrong 
train, that is carrying us away round the city. But 
no matter, it will bring us to St. James after a while. 
That’s rather a good joke on us, Harry, for a hansom 
would have taken us across in half the time and for 
half the money.” 

“ Oh, well,” Harry answered, “ no matter. It’s 
just as well to get a good dose of the underground 
this time, for I never want, to see the thing again. 
One dose is enough, well shaken and taken.” 

It took them fifty-minutes to reach the St. James 
Park station ; and after they had climbed the long 
stairs to the surface they stood awhile on the edge of 
the park to get some fresh air into their lungs. 

“IPs just as I expected,” Harry declared, “ only a 
good deal worse. They don’t half know how to do 
things over here. And that’s Buckingham Palace, is 
it, where the Queen lives ? Why, it’s only two 
stories high, and a basement ! Now, Kit, you know 
as well as I do that this palace ain’t a patch to Mr. 
Barnum’s house out in Seaside Park, in Bridgeport. 
No, sir, it doesn’t compare with it.” 

“ Oh, Harry, you can’t please a fellow who’s deter- 
mined not to be pleased,” Kit laughed. “ When you 
come to London, you must make up your mind that 
things are better than anywhere else, and tell the 
people so. Then they’ll pat you on the back and 
say the Americans are their cousins.” 

“ How could I tell them ? ” Harry asked ; “ they 
don’t understand me when I speak to them, and I 


A LETTER FROM THE STATE DEPARTMENT. 1 85 

never half know what they say. I should think they 
might know how to speak their own language.” 

By the time night came they had seen the new 
Thames Embankment, and Madame Tussaud’s wax- 
works show, Trafalgar Square, and Pall Mall, St. 
Paul’s Cathedral, and several of the curious old 
churches, and had walked through the Strand and 
Fleet Street, and many more of the busy parts of the 
city. And within forty-eight hours the Scilly signals 
were set in motion again, and over the wires flashed 
the brief announcement, “ Passed, steamer North Cape , 
for New York.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 

ETWEEN being a cabin boy with no responsibil- 



-U ity beyond setting the table straight and keeping 
the cabin clean, and being a supercargo with a large 
and valuable cargo to look after, there is a wide step, 
as Kit realized when the North Cape lay once more 
at the wharf in front of Martin’s Stores. Harry 
Leonard set off gayly for home before the ship was 
fairly moored in her berth; but for his own part, 
with nominally far more liberty, he could not think 
of going further away than his employers’ office till 
all the cargo was out ; and he could not tell whether 
even then he should be able to take a long enough 
holiday for a run out to Huntington. 

“ You see these things work both ways, Harry,” he 
said to the cabin boy before the latter set off. “ You 
complained in London about not being able to go 
ashore, but I am just as badly off here, where I have 
so much to do that I cannot leave the wharf for a 
week at any rate.” 

66 But you don’t complain about it, Kit,” Harry 
answered. “ I don’t believe you ever complain about 
anything.” 


1 86 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


87 


“ Why should I complain about this/’ Kit asked, 
“ when it is my work that keeps me and I am glad 
to have the work to do ? What would the owners 
think of the Captain if he said he could not sail on 
the day they ordered, because he had some business 
of his own to attend to ? No, I am not complaining 
about it, but just telling you the fact. And I spoke 
of it because I want you to take a little bundle up to 
Huntington for me, and tell my folks that nothing 
but my work keeps me from going home at once. I 
shall know in a few days whether I can get home 
this trip, and of course I have written.” 

There was no reason why the supercargo should 
explain to the cabin boy that the “ little bundle ” he 
sent home was the result of many visits to Peter 
Robinson’s, in Regent Street, and to another London 
place known as “ Louise’s,” in the same street ; and 
that it contained some things whose buying required 
as much care on his part as the stowing of a cargo. 
It was not such a little bundle, either, nor so light ; 
but Harry took it cheerfully, and promised to deliver 
all of Kit’s messages. 

Instead of Kit applying to the Captain now for 
information about the ship’s movements, it was rather 
the other way. As supercargo it was his business to 
know what the next cargo was to be, and where it 
was to be taken. But for some days neither of them 
knew, and it was impossible to learn, because the 
charterers did not yet know, themselves. 

“ I imagine from what I heard in the office to-day,” 


1 88 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


Kit said to the Captain one evening, “ that they are 
thinking of sending us next to Marseilles.” 

“ Yes,” the Captain answered, “ they are talking of 
it, I know. But nothing is settled yet.” 

“ I hope they will,” Kit went on ; “ that would 
give us a fine voyage into the Mediterranean and 
past Gibraltar. Marseilles must be a little further 
than London, of course.” 

“ Yes, it is just about four thousand miles,” the 
Captain answered. “It would be a good thing for 
you, for several reasons. The North Cape ought to 
go into dry-dock to be scraped and painted before 
crossing the ocean again, for one thing, and that 
would give you time to go home. For another thing, 
Marseilles is one of the most interesting places in the 
world. But our firm won’t take those things into 
consideration in making up then 1 minds,” he added, 
laughing. 

“ What cargo should we probably take if we went 
to Marseilles, sir ? ” Kit asked. 

“ Oil,” the Captain replied ; “ and as Marseilles is 
one of the great olive-oil shipping ports, that would 
be carrying coals to Newcastle with a vengeance, 
wouldn’t it ? ” 

“ I don’t quite understand, sir,” Kit answered. 

“Well, you will soon see into it,” the Captain said, 
“ if we go to Marseilles. You see they make a great 
deal of olive-oil all along that part of the Mediterra- 
nean coast. And it is shipped from Marseilles. 
Olive-oil, you understand, is a very expensive product. 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


189 


We make a great deal of cotton-seed oil in this 
country, and that is a very cheap product. So they 
buy our cotton-seed oil, and we take it over to them.” 

“ But you don’t mean that they mix our cotton- 
seed oil with their olive-oil, and sell it for pure oil, 
do you, sir ? ” 

“ I never saw them mix it,” the Captain said, 
laughing quietly to himself. “ But when you put 
this and that together, and considering that they 
have no other use for cotton-seed oil over there, it 
certainly looks very much like it, doesn’t it ? 

“ However, I don’t think you need worry your 
mind about our share in the transaction,” the Cap- 
tain went on, seeing that Kit looked very thoughtful 
over it. “ If they pay us for carrying the oil, we 
have nothing to do with the use they make of it. 
We might carry a cargo of cotton to Manchester ; 
and if some dishonest cloth-maker there mixes a lot 
of it with his wool, that dishonesty cannot be laid on 
our shoulders.” 

“ Captain, do you think there is a really honest 
man in the world ? ” Kit asked. 

“ Yes, two,” the Captain laughed; “ Christopher 
Silburn and Captain Griffith.” 

The uncertainty about their next destination could 
not last long, for the cargo was nearly out ; and 
on the same day that Kit was told definitely that he 
was to go to Marseilles, the Captain induced his 
charterers to let him have a week in dry-dock first 
for overhauling the ship. The supercargo, however, 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


190 

could not arrange for more than four days’ leave of 
absence, there being many things to see to ; and 
that would give him only two full days at home. 

Going out by train this time, for greater speed, 
Kit reached Bridgeport too late for the stage ; but 
without hesitation he set off over the hills on foot, 
glad of the chance to see so much of the country 
just as the trees and grass were putting on their 
new spring suits ; and when he stepped without 
warning into the little house opposite the church, 
his mother and Vieve were at the supper table. 

“ You gave me a great start when you came in, 
Kit,” Mrs. Silburn declared after the first greetings 
were over. “ You walk exactly as your father did ; 
my first thought was that he had come home. And 
upon my word you are just his size. My, my, what 
a man you have grown ! I have no little Kit any 
more, but a big grown man.” 

“ Don’t speak of growing ! ” Kit retorted. “ Where’s 
the little sister I left at home ? What have you done 
with her ? This great big girl can’t be Vieve, can she ? 
And you are looking so much better, too, mother. 
I’m afraid those little things I got you in London are 
about four sizes too small. 

“ I wanted to get you some really good things in 
England,” he went on, “ but those letters you sent 
me from Bridgeport and Washington made me more 
careful of my money. If that mysterious man in 
New Zealand should really prove to be father, we 
would need all the money we could possibly raise to 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 191 

bring him home comfortably. I don’t feel as if my 
wages belonged to myself, exactly, till that thing is 
settled.” 

“ Oh, it was such a comfort, Kit, the way you 
managed those letters,” his mother declared. “We 
did not know what to do at all. I don’t feel so 
much now as if I had no one to depend upon.” 

“Well, the Captain advised me,” Kit modestly 
answered. “ He always knows what ought to be 
done. You must not set your heart too much upon 
it, but still there is a chance. Since one man escaped 
from the wreck of the Flower City , why not another ? 
It will take weeks and weeks, perhaps months, to get 
an answer from the consul at Wellington ; and un- 
til it comes, we can do nothing but wait patiently.” 

The next morning Kit settled himself in his father’s 
armchair by the window, with a big volume in his 
hands. 

“ It’s a good thing father bought this set of cyclo- 
paedias,” he said, “ for I think it will give me just 
the information I want. Our next voyage is to be 
to Marseilles (did I tell you last evening ? ), and I 
want to find out something about the place. You’ve 
no idea what a help it is in going to a new city to 
read everything you can find about it beforehand. 
All the way over to London, when I had any spare 
time, I read the Captain’s books about it and studied 
the maps, and by the time I got there I knew a great 
deal about it.” 

“ Harry Leonard must have been a great help to 


92 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


you there,” Vieve suggested slyly ; “ lie says he 
showed you around so much.” 

“ Does he ? ” Kit laughed. “ That’s just like 
Harry ! He makes a very good cabin boy, but he 
hasn’t quite got over his boasting habit yet. The 
only visit he made to London was when I got leave 
for him one day and took him for a trip on the 
underground railway. We took the wrong train, too, 
by the way, and went about fifteen miles round to 
get a mile across town. But let’s see about this 
place in France. M-a-r; here we are — 4 Marseilles, 
the third city of France, population about four hun- 
dred and fifty thousand. Well situated in a valley 
on the shore of the Mediterranean. Chief city of the 
Department of Bouches-du-Rhone. Marseilles is one 
of the oldest cities in Europe, having been founded 
about 600 b.c.’ 

“ Think of that, mother ! This place I am going 
to was founded six hundred years before the time of 
our Saviour ! 

“ 6 The first settlement,’ ” he continued to read, “‘is 
usually ascribed to the Phoenicians. Lazarus is said 
to have been one of the early bishops of Marseilles, 
and a skull purporting to be his is still preserved in 
a portion of the original church in which Lazarus 
preached. Aside from this, the most remarkable 
building in Marseilles is the church of Notre-Dame- 
de-la-Garde, which, standing on the summit of a high 
hill, is church and fort combined, and is reached 
by hydraulic elevators. Marseilles is the scene of 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


193 


the principal part of Alexander Dumas’ remarkable 
story of the “ Count of Monte Cristo.” The Castle 
d’lf, in which Monte Cristo was confined in a 
dungeon for fourteen years, stands on a rocky islet 
in the harbor, and is still in a good state of preserva- 
tion. The chief articles of commerce are olive-oil, 
figs, dates, almonds, and wine. Marseilles is one of 
the principal ports of the Mediterranean, from thirty 
to fifty vessels entering or leaving daily. The Penin- 
sular and Oriental steamers call here on their way 
to and from India and Australia.’ 

“ I tell you there’s going to be something to see, 
in a place like that ! ” Kit exclaimed, as he closed 
the book. “ Six hundred years before those things 
happened that we read about in the New Testament ! 
A fellow can hardly get that into his head. I hope 
I’ll have a chance to see that church on the hill, 
that’s both church and fort. And Lazarus ! That’s 
going it a little strong, it seems to me ; I don’t re- 
member reading anything in the Bible about Lazarus 
being a bishop. But I should like to see that old 
church.” 

“ Oh, I wish they had 6 cabin girls ’ on ships ! ” 
Vieve declared ; “ I’d like to go and see these queer 
places the way you do. Girls never have a chance 
to see anything.” 

u They’re a very lucky lot,” Kit answered. “ They 
only have to stay at home and be comfortable, while 
their fathers and brothers go away to work for them.” 

“ Now, children, I’ll have to punish you both if 


194 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


you begin to quarrel,” Mrs. Silburn laughed. “ The 
most important thing is when you will be back from 
this next voyage, Kit ; and that you haven’t told 
us yet.” 

“We can safely say in about two months,” Kit 
replied, “ if all goes well. And by that time I think 
we ought to have an answer from New Zealand.” 

Those two days at home were many hours too 
short, but there was no help for it. Kit had nearly 
two months’ wages to hand over to his mother, and 
after taking a good look at the outside of the house 
he suggested that she should get some one to mend 
the two or three broken places and then have it 
painted. 

“ That will not cost very much,” he said, “ for it 
is a small house. And if — if that should — well, 
you know what I mean. We want everything look- 
ing nice if he comes home.” 

Silas did not go down to Bridgeport with his stage 
in time to catch the 9.15 train, the one that Kit 
wanted to take; so he walked down as he had walked 
up, glad, to have another two or three hours among 
the green fields after so much blue water. 

From the time of his reaching New York again 
the young supercargo had very little time to himself 
until the North Cape cleared for Marseilles, for the 
cargo began to arrive next day, and he had to give 
his attention to it. 

“It hardly seems to me as if we had been home,” 
he said to Captain Griffith as they stood on the 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


95 


bridge, watching the gradual fading away of the 
Navesink Highlands. “ They keep us going so 
fast ; to-day in Barbadoes, to-morrow in London, 
next day in Marseilles. I see you have the ‘ Count 
of Monte Cristo’ among your books, Captain. I 
will get you to let me read it when I am through 
with my work. I have been reading everything I 
could find about Marseilles.” 

“ Oh, yes, you can take it,” the Captain answered. 
“ You will find it a very interesting story, particu- 
larly when you are bound for Marseilles. But there 
is something about it that to me is of more interest 
than the story itself. I won’t tell you what it is ; 
you can find that out for yourself.” 

For four or five days Kit was busy with his mani- 
fests, but after that his time was his own, except for 
an occasional visit to the hold to see that his cargo 
was in good order — his “ magic oil,” he called it; 
for as far as he could make out it was to go into 
Marseilles nothing but plain cotton-seed oil, and re- 
turn to New York “pure olive-oil,” worth two dol- 
lars a gallon. 

The ocean seemed a vast desert of water on this 
voyage. They were far out of the usual track of 
vessels crossing the Atlantic, except those bound for 
the far East by way of the Suez Canal ; and in the 
eighteen days before Gibraltar was sighted they 
passed only three sails. But in those days Kit put 
all his papers in order and read the “ Count of Monte 
Cristo” with great care. 


196 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ I should not have spent so much time on an ordi- 
nary story/’ he said when it was finished, “ but this 
tells so much about Marseilles. And I wanted to 
find out what you considered of more interest about 
it than the story itself.” 

“ And did you find it out ? ” the Captain asked. 

“ I think so, sir,” Kit replied. “ The story was 
evidently written about the middle of this century, 
or less than fifty years ago. I think the author 
wanted to show what wonderful things could be 
accomplished by a man with fabulous wealth. So 
after the hero had been imprisoned in that Castle 
d’lf a great many years, he made his way through 
the walls to the dungeon of a very wise priest who 
was confined there. The priest became so attached 
to him that before he died he told him of the secret 
hiding-place of an immense treasure ; and after the 
hero escaped he went to the island and got the treas- 
ure. As nearly as I can make out, the treasure 
amounted to about three million dollars, and he did 
all his wonderful things with that money. The in- 
teresting thing is, as 1 understand it, that less than 
fifty years ago, a great author, living in Paris, when 
he wanted to write about a man with as much money 
as anybody could imagine, much less really have, 
gave him only three million dollars, which in those 
days seemed beyond belief ; whereas now within a 
single lifetime, some of our American mill ionnai res 
are so much richer that three million dollars would 
seem like a small sum to them.” 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


19 7 


“ That’s it, exactly,” the Captain replied ; “ I am 
glad you caught the idea. It just shows how the 
wealth of the world has increased in the last fifty 
years — or perhaps how it has fallen into compara- 
tively few hands. Half a century ago three millions 
was as great a fortune as could be imagined ; now 
when a man gets three he is not satisfied till he 
turns it into thirty.” 

“ It has made me anxious to see that Castle d’lf 
and its dungeons,” Kit said. 

“ I hope to have another look at it myself,” the 
Captain answered. “I was there once, but it was 
many years ago — long before you were born. We 
will go out together some day.” 

When Gibraltar was reached, the hoisting of two 
or three flags caused a telegraphic message to be sent 
by cable to London and thence to New York, “ Passed, 
steamer North Cape , New York for Marseilles. All 
well,” so that the ship’s owners and the crew’s friends 
knew within a few hours that she had once more 
crossed the Atlantic in safety. 

“ I should hardly like to be sailing past here in a 
ship that that tremendous fort was trying to keep 
out,” Kit declared. “It looks as if nothing could 
get past, with those great tiers of guns commanding 
this narrow passage. This is the strangest thing I 
have seen yet — Africa just across the channel, 
Spain on this side, and that great tall rock at the 
end of the peninsula belonging to England. I have 
read how the rock is full of underground passages 


198 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

and hidden batteries. They call it the impregnable 
fortress ; don’t they, sir?” 

“ Impregnable is a very good word, Silburn,” the 
Captain answered, “ but no place is impregnable in 
these days. That rock has been taken and retaken 
a number of times, so it cannot be impregnable. 
The English have fortified it very strongly, because 
it is an important point ; but in case of attack they 
would have to depend largely upon their navy to de- 
fend it. A few dynamite cartridges thrown against 
the rock would soon reduce it.” 

“Well, it doesn’t really look as if the English had 
any business with a big fort right on the best corner 
of Spain,” Kit went on. 

“ You will soon find yourself in deep water if you 
go into such questions as that, young man,” Captain 
Griffith laughed. “ What business have the English 
in India, or Egypt, or Africa ? What business have 
the Spaniards in Cuba ? What business have we in 
America, for that matter, which belonged to the 
Indians ? You will save yourself trouble by taking 
things as you find them. You’ll be saying next that 
the Phoenicians ought to own Marseilles, instead of 
the French, because they founded it.” 

After two days of skirting the Spanish coast the 
North Cape sighted the Belearic Isles ; and two days 
more took her into the Gulf of Lyons, within a few 
hours of Marseilles. The last half of her journey in 
the Mediterranean, however, was not as pleasant as 
the first ; for a heavy wind from the northwest 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


199 


made the air raw and chilly, even in that warm 
climate, and stirred up a heavy sea. 

“ It is the Mistral,” the Captain explained. “ That 
is the name they give the cold north wind all along 
this coast. It comes up very suddenly once every 
six or eight weeks, and makes the natives shiver. 
I am just as well satisfied to have it now, for it 
only lasts a day or two, and we will be pretty sure 
of fine weather in port.” 

As they approached Marseilles, Kit recognized many 
of the points from what he had read. There was 
the semicircle of mountains at the rear, forming a 
vast amphitheatre in which the city lay — desolate, 
barren-looking mountains of grayish-white rock, with 
hardly any traces of vegetation. And there was the 
church on the summit of a high hill rising from the 
valley, with a great gilded statue of the Virgin Mary 
on top; he knew that must be Notre-Dame-de-la- 
Garde, from the descriptions of it, and imagined that 
the long straight lines running up the side of the 
hill must be the track of the elevators. Then when 
they drew nearer he saw the long breakwater, extend- 
ing a mile or more along the shore, which makes 
Marseilles one of the best ports in Europe. And to 
the right lay a group of three rocky islands, some 
distance apart, one of which he was sure must be the 
island of the Castle d’lf. 

“ I suppose we run in behind the breakwater, Cap- 
tain ? ” he asked. “ I see there is quite a forest of 
masts in there.” 


200 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ No/’ the Captain answered, “ we go into the Old 
Port — the Vieux Port, as they call it here, vieux 
being the French word for old. That was the orig- 
inal port, of course, that was the making of Mar- 
seilles ; and a very curious place it is ; a natural 
basin running right up into the heart of the city, 
with a narrow entrance. However, you will soon 
see it all for yourself.” 

It was before ten o’clock in the morning that the 
ship ran between the two old-fashioned forts, one on 
each side of the narrow entrance, and ploughed her 
way slowly up the Old Port. It did not look to 
Kit as if there could possibly be room for another 
steamer on any of the three sides, so thickly were 
the vessels crowded in — big steamers and little, sail- 
ing-ships, tugs, beautiful yachts, fishing-boats, excur- 
sion boats, every sort of craft he could think of. All 
around, except at the entrance, were broad streets 
full of people, lined with tall buildings of light stone, 
many of them looking as if they might have stood 
since the old Phoenician days. But room was found 
on the east side for the North Cape , and as soon as 
she was made fast, both the Captain and Kit went 
ashore — the former to attend to his custom-house 
business, and Kit to find his agents. 

Within ten minutes they were both back at the 
ship, each with a disgusted look in his face. 

“Well, did you find your agents, Silburn ? ” the 
Captain asked. “ Just about as much as I got into 
the Custom House, I suppose. Every business place 


A VOYAGE TO MARSEILLES. 


201 


is shut up tight as a drum. This is some saint’s day 
or other, and all business is stopped ; the only places 
open are the cafes and tobacco shops. They don’t 
care very much for Sundays in these Catholic coun- 
tries, except as a time for bull-fights and the opera ; 
but just give them a saint’s day, and you couldn’t 
induce one of them to work. This is a wasted day 
for us, and I don’t like it.” 

“Nor I,” Kit answered; “but I suppose we must 
put up with it. It wouldn’t be so bad if we had 
some work to do on board.” 

“ No, there is nothing to do,” the Captain growled. 
It was not hard to see that he was very much an- 
noyed at the delay. “ We might as well go out and 
see some of the sights, I suppose. How would you 
like to go up to that church on the hill ? or would 
you rather go out to Castle d’lf ? ” 

“ Why, I should much rather go out to Monte 
Cristo’s castle, sir,” Kit answered, wondering that 
circumstances had made the trip possible on his very 
first day in port. 

“ Then Monte Cristo it is ! ” the Captain ex- 
claimed. “ I’ll be getting angry at these saintly 
Frenchmen pretty soon if I don’t do something to 
work it off. Then you step ashore, Silburn, and find 
out how we can get there. There used to be a little 
steamboat or two going out, and I suppose they still 
run. Just find out what time they start.” 

Kit returned in a few minutes with a longer face 
than before. 


202 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ No boats to-day, Captain,” lie reported. “ They 
are all afraid of the rough water outside.” 

“ Right enough for them,” the Captain answered, 
“ since they are small excursion boats and made for 
smooth water. But there’s nothing outside to-day to 
hurt a good sea-boat. Step over there to the head of 
the port where you see those sail-boats to hire, and 
see whether you can get a boatman to take us over.” 

Kit was gone longer this time, but once more he 
returned with bad news. 

“ I’m afraid we’ll have to give it up, Captain,” he 
said. “ Not one of the boatmen will venture outside 
the port. I made them understand by saying ‘ Castle 
d’lf,’ and pointing out ; but they only shook their 
heads and answered 4 Le Mistral ! le Mistral ! ’ ” 

“ Well,” the Captain exclaimed, with an expressive 
shrug of the shoulders, “this town is pretty well 
closed to-day, isn’t it ? But I think I can find a way 
to get to that island. Lower away the longboat, 
Mr. Mason.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE dTf. 

HERE was a great deal of the boy left in Cap- 



-L tain Griffith, .as Kit had long suspected ; though 
he attended so thoroughly to his business that it did 
not often have a chance to show itself. But having 
made up his mind to enjoy a little holiday at the 
Castle d’lf, he entered fully into the spirit of it. 
His ordering the longboat lowered was sufficient 
indication that he intended to sail out to the island, 
for it w r ould have taken six or eight men to row it 
against the heavy sea, and it was the only one of the 
ship’s boats that was fitted with a mast and sail. 

“ We can hardly be back in time for dinner,” the 
Captain said, looking at his watch. “ Put us up a 
good big basket of lunch, steward — enough for five 
or six men, for I must have some passengers along for 
ballast, in this breeze. Suppose you step up and ask 
the chief engineer whether he would like to go out 
to the castle, Silburn ; and you can bring your 
friend Haines too, if he likes to come. I will take 
you along, Henry, to look after the lunch.” 

The little trip to the castle was developing into a 


203 


204 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


regular picnic, nmcli to Kit’s delight. With the 
Captain and Tom Haines and Harry along, they were 
sure to have a lively time. Both the chief engineer 
and Tom Haines were glad to go, and in a few 
minutes they were all ready for the start. 

“ Now let me see,” said the Captain, before he went 
down the ladder to the little boat, in which the mast 
had been stepped. “ We must have everything we 
are likely to need, for there’s no telling how we may 
find things out there. The island belongs to the 
government, and they used to keep a man there to 
show the castle to visitors, but I don’t know how it 
is now. Plenty of lunch in the basket, steward ? ” 

“ Enough for twice as many, sir,” the steward 
answered, “ and dishes too. You’ll not go hungry, 
sir.” 

“ Then I don’t know of anything else we want.” 

“ Water, sir ? ” Kit suggested ; “ hadn’t we better 
take some water along ? ” 

“ There’s always a keg of water in the boat,” the 
Captain answered. “ See that it’s full, Henry. 
Besides, there is a big well or tank in the castle, 
enough to supply a whole garrison. But we may 
need some candles, for some of those dungeons are so 
dark you can hardly see your hand before your face. 
Put a good package of candles in the basket, steward.” 

The steward ran back to the cabin for the candles, 
and in another minute they were off, the five men 
making just about a proper ballast for the boat when 
the sail began to draw. The Captain took the helm 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE D'lF. 


205 


and the main sheet, Harry and Tom Haines were sent 
up forward to keep her a little down by the head, and 
Kit and the chief engineer seated themselves amidships. 

“ This is Fort St. John on the right,” the Captain 
said, as they sped through the harbor entrance, “ and 
on the left is Fort St. Nicholas. Now look at this 
big building on the high point to the left — the one 
that stands in the handsome park. They call that 
the Chateau de Pharo. It belonged to the Emperor 
Napoleon III., and he presented it to the city. In 
the great cholera epidemic of 1885 they used it 
for a hospital, and it has since been turned into a 
medical school with a hospital attached. That is the 
handsomest site in Marseilles ; trust an emperor for 
picking out the choice spots. Now look out for a 
little tossing when we round the point.” 

It was more than “a little tossing” that they got 
when they were once out in the big bay. Great 
waves chased their stern, and occasionally the boat 
tumbled down from the crest of a billow with a violent 
slap. But there was no fear in any of the party to 
mar the pleasure of the sail. They not only felt 
perfectly safe with the Captain at the helm, but knew, 
too, that he would not have taken them out if there 
had been any danger in so stanch a boat. 

“ Now you have a fine view of Marseilles,” he said, 
when they were well out. “ Off to the left there the 
breakwater runs so far that you can barely see the end 
of it. And to the right of the point is what they call 
‘ the Corniche.’ That is a long, smooth, winding 


206 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


drive along the shore, and one of the handsomest 
places to be found anywhere. When you go out 
there two or three miles you come to the end of the 
Prado ; and by turning into that you come to the 
heart of the city again.” 

“ See how old Notre-Dame stands out on the hill- 
top,” he went on. u You would hardly think that 
statue of the Virgin, on the summit, was thirty feet 
high, would you ? But it is. They have to gild it 
every few years to keep it bright, and it costs twelve 
thousand dollars to cover it with gold-leaf. It is so 
windy up there that they have to build a little house 
around it for the painters to work in. That is the 
favorite church with the Marseilles sailors. Many of 
them go up there to say their prayers before setting 
out on a voyage. Then when they are in danger at 
sea they promise an offering to the Virgin if their 
lives are saved, and when they get back to port they 
present a little toy ship to the church, or a tablet to 
be put on the walls. It is full of such things.” 

“ Don’t you think, sir, it would be better for them 
to give their attention to navigating their ship, when 
they are in danger ? ” Haines asked. 

“ Well, that is their form of religion,” the Captain 
answered ; “ we must not ridicule them for living up 
to their faith. But what do you think of this boat 
for a sailer, boys ? It is two miles from the port 
out to the castle, and we shall be there in five 
minutes more. Why, she deserves to be taken up 
to Nice and entered in the spring regattas.” 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE D'lF. 


20 7 


At this mention of the castle they all looked 
toward it and saw that it was a large and very old 
building of stone, with battlements on the top, and 
a high tower rising far above the rest, the whole 
standing upon a great rock that rose from the 
water’s edge to a height of thirty or forty feet. 

“ That must have been a very strong place before 
the days of heavy guns,” Kit suggested. 

“It was one of the strongest forts in France,” the 
Captain replied. “For centuries the most important 
political prisoners were confined here. There was 
not the least chance for them to escape or for their 
friends to rescue them. Do you see that high battle- 
ment that runs up almost straight from the water? 
That is where Monte Cristo, according to the story, 
was thrown into the sea when he pretended to be 
dead and was sewn up in a sack. And if I’m not 
mistaken he was no wetter then than we are going 
to be before we get ashore, for there is a heavy sea 
running against this rock. 

“ There is the landing-place, just at the foot of 
that rocky path,” he continued, standing up in the 
stern to look about. “ It is a wharf of natural rock, 
with three or four fathoms of w^ater. But there’s 
no landing there to-day, with this sea breaking over 
it. We must get around to leeward and try to find 
a bit of beach.” 

The island offers very little in the way of beach, 
but on the sheltered side they found a smooth slope 
that answered their purpose, and in a few minutes 


20 8 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


they were safely on shore and had dragged the boat 
well up out of harm. 

“ Now this way/’ the Captain directed. “ One of 
you youngsters help Henry carry the basket. We’ve 
got to get around to that path we saw, for the gate 
at the top of it is the only entrance.” 

By scrambling over the rocks they soon reached 
the path, and followed it over rough and slippery 
rocks, up a steep incline, to the heavy gate, which 
was closed, but not locked. Once through the gate, 
the path showed more evidences of care, though it 
was still rough and difficult, rising in a sort of rude 
stairway, with a step followed by four or five feet 
of steep incline, then another step and another in- 
cline. On the right was a thick stone wall, with 
long narrow slanting slits for firing muskets through. 

Up and up the path led, growing rougher the nearer 
it approached the castle, till it ran across a large open 
yard and ended at the moat, over which a heavy 
wooden drawbridge was lowered. 

“ There’s a sample of old times for you,” the Cap- 
tain said, when they reached the drawbridge and 
paused for breath. “ Two or three days’ work 
would make a good path of that ; but in two or 
three centuries not one commander of the place 
had ambition enough to repair it.” 

Crossing the bridge over the dry and rocky and 
weedy moat, they reached the entrance to the castle 
proper, where the massive doors stood hospitably 
open, and they walked in without challenge or 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE HIE. 


209 


hindrance. It was soon evident that there was no 
other person on the island, for they hallooed and 
shouted, but received no reply. 

“ Strange that they leave such a historical place 
without any one to take care of it,” said the chief 
engineer. And it did look odd, but the fact was that 
the man in charge had gone ashore on some errand, 
and the heavy sea had prevented his return. 

Having passed through the main portal, they 
were in a large store-paved courtyard, nearly in the 
centre of which stood an old-fashioned well-curb. A 
heavy stone stairway on the opposite side led to a 
solid gallery of iron and stone running completely 
around the court, both stairs and gallery having a 
strong rail of wrought iron. Numerous doors opened 
from both the ground floor and the gallery, some 
closed and some standing open, and over several of 
the doors were small signs bearing the names of their 
former occupants. 

u Put your lunch basket here in the corner,” the 
Captain directed Harry. “ There doesn’t seem to be 
any one here to disturb it. But get out some 
candles, and we’ll have a look at these lower dungeons 
first. Nearly every one of these solid doors leads to 
a dungeon, I suppose you understood, and some of 
them to a series of dungeons. Silburn is anxious to 
see Monte Cristo’s late residence, I am sure. Do you 
see his name on the sign there under the stairway, 
Silburn ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, I saw that the first thing,” Kit answered- 


210 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ But there is so much to see here a fellow hardly 
knows where to look. It is like going back two or 
three hundred years at a single step. Even in the 
old buildings of London I saw nothing like this. It 
is a regular feudal castle, such as we see sometimes 
in pictures.” 

“ It adds a little to the romance of the thing to have 
the place entirely to ourselves,” said the Captain. 
“We are as safe from intrusion as if we raised the 
drawbridge and bolted the big doors, for you may be 
sure none of the French boatmen will come out in 
this sea. Now, then, if you are all ready, we will 
visit Monte Cristo first. Give me a candle, and I 
will lead the way.” 

With a lighted candle in his hand the Captain 
went through a broad but low arched doorway, fol- 
lowed by all the others, into a small dark cell, paved 
with stone, to which a few faint rays of light were 
admitted by a slit a foot long and about two inches 
wide in the upper part of one wall. 

“And did Monte Cristo spend fourteen years in such 
a dark hole as this ! ” Kit exclaimed, with a shudder. 

“No, indeed,” the Captain answered ; “he was in 
a far worse place than this. Now look out for your 
footing on this slant and for your heads in the low 
doorway.” 

He led the way to another and smaller doorway 
in the darkest corner, not high enough to stand erect 
under, and reached by going down a dark and dan- 
gerous incline of a few feet. 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE DDF. 


21 I 


“ This/’ said he, “ is Monte Cristo’s dungeon. 
You see it is lower than the other, and even darker. 
Here on the side is the hole that he cut through 
into the priest’s cell. Do you see where a large 
stone has been removed? We could crawl through 
there into the other cell, but it is not worth while, 
as they are much the same. Well, Mr. Supercargo, 
how do you like this sort of a residence ? ” 

“ Terrible ! ” Kit answered. “ The only good thing 
I see about it is that it is entirely dry. There does 
not seem to be any of the dampness that we expect 
in a dungeon.” 

“ That is because these dungeons are all above 
ground, and founded on rock,” the Captain explained. 
“And this Monte Cristo cell is the worst of all. 
It is not more than ten or twelve feet square, you 
see, and the ceiling is low. In fact, it is no better 
than a dark cellar. But in the upper tier there are 
some fine cells. Occasionally they caught a king or 
prince and caged him here, you know, and they had 
better quarters.” 

“Then let us go and see them!” the chief engi- 
neer exclaimed. “ It’s enough to give a man the 
shivers to look at such holes as these.” 

Cautiously they crawled out of the lower dungeons 
and went to the stairway. As they passed the well- 
curb, Harry stopped and raised the lid and looked 
down. 

“ Water ! ” he cried ; “ I should say so. Here’s a 
big square tank with water enough to float a ship.” 


212 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


They went up the broad, heavy stairs to the gal- 
lery, and the Captain paused before a door that was 
marked “ Louis-Philippe, 1792.” 

“ Hello ! ” Kit cried ; “ did they have Louis-Phi- 
lippe in here ? Why, he was one of the kings of 
France! ” 

“ This was not the king, if I remember rightly,” 
the Captain replied, “ but the Duke of Orleans, and 
father of the king of the same name. You will see 
a very different cell here from Monte Cristo’s, if the 
door is not locked.” 

The huge door opened readily, and they stepped 
into a large and lofty room, moderately well lighted 
by a window that overlooked the court, but that was 
not quite wide enough to offer a chance of escape. 
The stone floor and heavy stone walls gave the apart- 
ment, to be sure, something of the air of a prison ; 
but it was eighteen or twenty feet square, and on one 
side was a handsome fireplace, with a broad stone seat 
on each side, and a carved mantel of stone that evi- 
dently had once been a work of art, but that was 
badly chipped and broken by time, perhaps with the 
assistance of some of the royal prisoners. When they 
looked up the chimney, through which they had 
a glimpse of the scudding clouds, they saw that 
although the opening was nearly four feet across, it 
was not more than five or six inches wide, so that a 
prisoner could not escape through it. 

• “ You see they had better quarters for their distin- 
guished prisoners than they gave to poor sailors like 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE D’lF. 


213 


Monte Cristo,” the Captain said. “ Just imagine this 
room fitted up with rugs and hangings and handsome 
furniture, as no doubt it was when Louis-Philippe 
occupied it. A man could hardly want a better 
place. There are more such rooms on this tier, that 
you can look at later on. Some of them were 
occupied by Albert del Campo, Bernardot, a rich 
armorer of Marseilles who was mixed up with the 
Due de Richelieu. The Man in the Iron Mask, the 
Count de Mirabeau, the Abbe Peretti, and a great 
many more famous men of their times. Now if you 
want a good view of the bay, come up to the top of 
the tower.” 

The Captain led the way up the iron stairs of the 
tower, *all the others following. But before Kit and 
Harry Leonard, who brought up the rear, reached 
the top, they heard an exclamation of surprise from 
the Captain, who hurriedly began to descend the 
steps. 

“ Make for the boat, boys, as fast as you can ! ” 
he cried. “ The wind has shifted, and the sea is 
tumbling in on that side hard enough to break her 
to pieces. We must get her further up in a hurry, 
or we’ll lose a good boat.” 

The party made a scramble down the stairs, across 
the court, and down the rough steps outside, then 
along the jagged rocks, till they reached the boat, 
which, by their united strength, was soon dragged 
out of reach of the waves. But the spot where they 
had landed in comparatively smooth water was now 


214 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


beaten by heavy seas that wet them with their 
spray. 

“ That was a narrow escape ! ” Kit exclaimed. 
“ It wouldn’t have taken many minutes to break her 
up, where she lay. But she’s all right now.” 

“ Yes, the boat is all right now,” Captain Griffith 
answered ; “ but that’s about all we can say. There’s 
no such thing as launching her from these rocks 
while the wind holds in this quarter. We’re as 
safely imprisoned in Castle d’lf as ever Monte Cristo 
was. We are in for a night of it here, at any rate ; 
you can make up your minds to that.” 

“ Hurrah ! ” Harry Leonard cried, waving his arms. 
“ Ain’t that a jolly lark ! We have plenty of provi- 
sions and lights and a big tank of water, and I wish 
the Mistral would last a week.” 

But the Captain gave him such a look that Harry 
suddenly made his face as serious as if the voice had 
come from the blackened rocks. 

“ It would make bad work for us if this wind should 
hold too long,” the Captain said. “ But I think we 
can look for a change in the night; and for the 
present we have no great cause to complain. We 
may consider it settled, at any rate, that we must 
spend the night in the castle. Chief, you and Haines 
bring along the sail and hang it somewhere to dry ; 
we may need it to-night to lie on. And we will all 
go back to the court till I organize you into a proper 
garrison and set the watches. 

“ Now I am going to establish a headquarters,” 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE HIE. 21 5 

he went on, when they were in the court again. 
“ Shall we be romantic and take Monte Cristo’s cell, 
or be comfortable and camp in Louis-Philippe’s big 
room ? ” 

“ Let us be kings while we can,” the chief engi- 
neer answered, as the Captain looked at him for a 
reply. “ It looks a little rheumatic in Monte Cristo’s 
place, and the other is a fine large room.” 

“Very well, then,” the Captain decided; “head- 
quarters established in room No. 14, formerly the 
residence of the Duke of Orleans. Henry, you are 
appointed quartermaster; you and Silburn bring up 
the provisions.” 

He led the way again to Louis-Philippe’s cell, and 
looked about to see what they most needed. 

“ Chief,” he soon said, “ I am going to put you in 
charge of a foraging expedition. If you will take 
Haines and Henry with you down to the big yard 
across the moat, you will find the remains of an old 
shed or something that has collapsed there. I noticed 
it as we came in. Let them bring up a good stock of 
the old boards. It will be cold to-night, and we shall 
need a fire, and some of them can be made into seats.” 

The departure of the other three left Kit and the 
Captain alone in the cell. 

“ This is more of an adventure than we bargained 
for, sir,” Kit said. “ I didn’t think when I was read- 
ing that story, that I should be a prisoner myself in 
Castle d’lf. None of us will forget it in a hurry, and 
I think I am rather glad it has happened.” 


216 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ So am I, to tell the truth,” said the Captain. 
“ It won’t do us any harm if the weather lets us 
away in the morning. I don’t go in for this sort of 
thing very often ; but now that we are in for it, we 
may as well enjoy it.” 

Within the next hour the big cell bore a more 
homelike look than it had had for many a day. 
With two of the boards a rough table was made be- 
tween the chimney-place and the inner wall. More 
boards were converted into two rough benches ; still 
others were arranged slantingly against a wall to 
make a springy bed ; and by resting one end of the 
remainder on the stone seats and jumping upon them 
they were soon converted into a formidable heap of 
firewood. 

“ How many candles, Mr. Quartermaster ? ” the 
Captain asked. 

“ Eleven, sir,” Harry answered, “besides one that 
was partly burned when we were in Monte Cristo’s 
cell.” 

“Very good. The fire will give us light enough 
most of the time. And the provisions?” 

“ I’ll see, sir,” Harry replied ; and taking the 
napkin from the top of the basket he spread it upon 
the improvised table and began to lay the food out 
upon it. 

“ Here’s more than half of a boiled ham, sir,” he 
began, “ and a roast chicken, and three loaves of 
bread and some rolls, butter, pickles, some cold roast 
beef, a big pot of cold coffee, pepper and salt, and a 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE D'lF. 21 y 

lot of dishes and knives and forks. That’s all, 
sir.” 

“ All ! ” the Captain laughed. “ The castle is pro- 
visioned for a siege. It’s a good thing the North 
Cape has such a liberal-minded steward. I was 
afraid we might only have enough for one meal ; 
but if we take a good sandwich apiece now, we will 
have plenty for supper and breakfast. Make us five 
big ham sandwiches, Mr. Quartermaster.” 

“ Aye, aye, sir ! ” Harry replied. He was so ex- 
cited over being at once a shipwrecked mariner and 
a prisoner in a celebrated old castle, that it was well 
for him to have something to do. 

With the sandwiches in their hands they strolled 
among the dismal cells, finding something on every 
hand to interest them. Afterward they went out to 
explore the island outside the castle walls, and found 
caves made by the angry water, and in several places 
steps cut in the rock, where small boats could land 
passengers. When the first signs of dusk appeared 
they returned to the castle; and Kit in wandering 
about found two things that excited his curiosity. 

“ There are some locked doors down on the ground 
tier,” he said to the Captain, “that may lead to 
places of interest. And I have found a very small 
narrow cell, hardly high enough for a man to stand 
up in, without any window at all. I wonder what 
that can have been for.” 

“ I don’t know about the locked doors,” the Cap: 
tain answered, “but most likely they lead to the 


218 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


rooms occupied by the people who take care of the 
place. There must be somebody in charge of it, and 
they may have gone ashore and been kept there by 
the storm. It is very natural that they should lock 
the doors of their rooms on going away. The small 
dark cell that you have discovered, however, was the 
death chamber. When a prisoner was condemned to 
death he was taken there without any warning, gener- 
ally in the night or early morning. A guillotine was 
set up there, and the man never came out alive. I 
suppose this castle could tell some terrible tales if it 
could talk. But we must be thinking of supper. 
Haines, you and Henry bring up a few more loads of 
boards first; that light wood burns up very rapidly, 
and it is growing chilly.” 

The bare old cell soon looked quite cheerful, with 
a rousing blaze in the fireplace, and its five occupants 
seated on the benches, eating a good supper and drink- 
ing coffee that they had heated over the fire. The 
Captain announced during the meal that Silburn was 
to stand watch from six to ten, Haines from ten to 
two, and Harry Leonard from two till six. 

“ And the watchman must take care of the fire,” 
he added, “ and keep an eye on the weather. If the 
wind shifts, I am to be called immediately.” 

Kit’s watch carried them through ope of the most 
enjoyable evenings he had ever spent. With the 
benches drawn up in front of the fire the Captain 
began to spin sea-yarns, and told them tales of ad- 
venture and hairbreadth escape in many seas in vari- 


IMPRISONED IN THE CASTLE D'lE. 219 

ous parts of the world. The chief engineer, too, had 
a good stock of such stories ; and Haines spun two 
or three yarns that kept them in roars of laughter. 

“I can’t do my share at this business,” Kit la- 
mented. “ I’ve hardly seen a real gale yet, much 
less had any adventures.” 

“ That would be no drawback, if you were a real 
Jack Tar instead of a supercargo,” the Captain said, 
laughing. “When Jack is short of adventures he 
invents a few. Some of the imaginary yarns are bet- 
ter than the true ones, too. But you can spin a real 
yarn some time about the night you were imprisoned 
in the Castle d’lf.” 

By ten o’clock the stories were pretty much all 
told, the sail, now thoroughly dry, was spread over 
the bed of boards, and all but Haines, the next watch, 
prepared for sleep. There was no covering, to be 
sure ; but the blazing fire promised to give them a 
warm and comfortable night. Before turning in, the 
Captain went to the top of the tower, and found the 
night intensely dark, but no change in the weather. 

When two o’clock came, and Haines aroused Harry 
Leonard to relieve him on watch, the others were all 
fast asleep ; but the slight noise woke the Captain, 
and he went out quietly to look at the sky, without 
finding any change in the wind. 

Harry began his watch by putting on more wood, 
and making a blaze that illuminated the stone cell 
beautifully. But about four o’clock the watchful Cap- 
tain stirred, turned over, raised his head, and asked : 


220 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Any change yet in the weather, Henry ? ” 

The cell was dark and chilly, the fire burned down, 
and no answer came from the watch. 

Thoroughly awake in an instant, the Captain 
sprang up and found Harry sitting sound asleep on 
one of the stone seats in the chimney-place. 

Surprised and angered at this disobedience of or- 
ders, he stepped to the door to look at the sky again 
before awaking the watchman in the emphatic way 
that he contemplated. He put his thumb on the 
heavy wrought-iron latch and pushed against the 
door, but it would not open. 

He pushed harder and shook the door, but instead 
of its opening, the shaking only gave him a still 
greater surprise. He could tell by the feel and the 
rattling that the door was held fast by the heavy 
bolt on the outside. Somebody or something had 
shot the bolt ! 

He went to the window and looked out, but all 
was black as ink. Then, hardly able to believe 
his senses, he returned to the door and shook it 
again. 

It was so plain that he had to believe it. The bolt 
was shot, and they were all securely imprisoned in 
the cell of Louis-Philippe, in the Castle d’lf. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 

HE noise made by the Captain in shaking the 



door aroused Harry, and he sprang up, looking- 
very much frightened. 

“ It’s not six o’clock yet, is it, sir ? ” he asked ; “ I 
must have fallen asleep just a minute ago.” 

“Yes, you are a very valuable man on watch,” 
the Captain answered. “ The fire burned out in 
that minute while you were asleep, I suppose ? And 
it must have been in the same minute that some one 
came along and fastened the door and locked us all 
in here, no doubt.” 

“ Locked us in, sir ! ” Harry exclaimed. “ Why, 
there is no one on the island to lock us in. I shut 
the door some time ago because it was growing 
colder. But no one could have locked it.” 

He went up to the door and shook it, but of course 
could not open it. 

“ The bolt must have slipped when I shut it, sir,” 
he said. “ The wind was blowing in so hard.” 

“ No matter what fastened it,” the Captain re- 
plied ; “ it is enough for us to know that it is fast- 
ened. It is much more important to know why you 


221 


222 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


were asleep when I put you on watch. Don’t you 
know that that is one of the most serious offences 
you could commit ? But I shall have something to 
say to you about that later on. Start up the fire, 
and put the remainder of the coffee on to warm.” 

It was in no very pleasant frame of mind that 
Harry set to work at building the fire. There was 
something in the Captain’s manner that looked omi- 
nous. Though it was plain that he was greatly 
displeased at such a breach of discipline, and the re- 
sults that had followed it, he was cool and quiet, 
and that promised worse things for the offender than 
if he had stormed and blustered. And even in his 
own mind, Harry could not excuse himself. He had 
been left on watch and had gone to sleep, and while 
he slept they had been locked in. He could not help 
thinking of the death chamber below, and the pris- 
oners called from sleep to be guillotined. He felt, 
he imagined, very much as they must have felt while 
walking down the stone steps, chained and guarded, 
to enter the gloomy chamber. 

The noise soon awakened Kit and the chief and 
Haines, and they could not believe at first that they 
were really prisoners. But very little experimenting 
with the door convinced each in turn that it was only 
too true. 

“ The bolt must have slipped when the door 
slammed,” the chief engineer decided, bringing his 
mechanical mind to bear on the problem. “ Maybe 
we can shove it back with a thin strip of board.” 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 223 

He found a bit that he thought might answer the 
purpose and went to the window with it, but one or 
two trials convinced him that the bolt could not be 
reached in that way. 

“ Don’t waste your strength on that idea,” the 
Captain said. “ These heavy bolts cannot slip so 
easily. Indeed, I should be very sorry to think that 
it had slipped of itself, for in that case we might 
possibly be kept here for days, without sufficient 
provisions. Evidently some one has fastened the 
bolt. Either there was some one else on the island 
from the beginning, or the guardian of the castle 
has returned and shut us in. I hope that is the case, 
for whoever shut us in will let us out. At any rate, 
we will eat some breakfast before doing anything 
else. By that time it will be daylight.” 

Somehow it did not seem quite so romantic to be 
encamped in Louis-Philippe’s cell when they were 
actually prisoners. Kit could not help making a 
mental picture of some visitor opening the door after 
weeks had passed, and finding them all lying starved 
to death. The coffee was comforting in the raw 
morning, but the breakfast was not as jolly a meal 
as the supper had been. 

“ Now,” said the Captain, when they were done eat- 
ing, “ we will see what we can do toward getting out. 
It is growing light outside. You reach a piece of board 
through the window, Haines, and pound it against the 
wall, and halloo at the same time. If there is any 
one in the castle, he will be pretty sure to hear it.” 


224 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


Haines followed these directions, and made such 
a racket that it seemed as if it must have been heard 
across the water in Marseilles. 

“ Somebody’s coming ! ” he exclaimed, after a min- 
ute or two of pounding. “ I hear a footstep on the 
stones below.” 

“ Halloo ! ” he shouted. “ Halloo there ! Come and 
unfasten the door ! We want to get out ! ” 

“ Here he comes ! ” Haines cried, a moment later. 
“ It’s a soldier. He’s coming up the stairs.” 

“ Then let me take your place,” the Captain said ; 
“ I will do the talking.” 

The footsteps came nearer and nearer around the 
gallery, and in another moment a young soldier in the 
French uniform stood before the window. 

“Good morning,” said the Captain. “Just slide 
that bolt back, please ; we are fastened in here.” 

The soldier gave a military salute, but did not stir. 

“ Oh, he speaks French, of course,” the Captain ex- 
claimed ; “ and I don’t know enough of the language 
to talk to him. Do any of you speak French ?” 

“ I can struggle with it a little,” the chief engi- 
neer answered, “though I know very little about it.” 
He took the Captain’s place at the window, and 
bowed to the soldier. 

“ Bon jour, monsieur,” he said. “ Nous avons une 
grand desir to — to — (oh, what a dreadful lan- 
guage !) to sortie. Ouvrir la porte, s’il vous plait.” 

The soldier shook his head and made some reply 
in French. 


A VISIT TO NO TR E-DAME-DE-LA- GARDE. 225 

“ What does he say ? ” the Captain asked. 

“ He says why don’t we keep quiet,” the chief 
answered. “ Oh, no ; hold on ; I got mixed with 
that. He says why did we come in ? ” 

“ Tell him we came to see the castle,” the Captain 
said, u and could not get away on account of the storm.” 

The chief put this into French as well as he could, 
and the soldier immediately began a long and very 
rapid tirade, in which they caught the words “ deux 
cent kilos de bois,” “ hier soir,” and “ batteau des 
gendarmes.” But he showed no inclination to open 
the door. 

“ What’s all that ? ” the Captain asked. 

“ As well as I can make it out,” the chief replied, 
“ he says that he is the keeper of the castle, and he 
was detained on shore by the storm. When the 
wind abated early this morning he got a boatman to 
bring him out, and seeing a light in this cell he 
came up and found us here. That we came without 
permission, and burned up two hundred kilos of his 
wood (that’s nearly four hundred pounds), and that 
he is going to signal for the police boat and have us 
taken in charge.” 

“ Oh, that’s what he is after, is it ? ” the Captain 
laughed. “ Then I know a language he will under- 
stand. Let me get there a moment.” 

Again at the window, the Captain put his hand in 
his pocket and drew out a ten-franc gold piece which 
he held between his thumb and forefinger where the 
soldier could see it, and pointed toward the door. 


226 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


Evidently that was the language he understood 
best. He immediately began to smile and reached 
for the gold, which the Captain handed him ; and in 
thirty seconds more the big door was unbolted, and 
they all slipped out. The gold piece changed the 
aspect of affairs entirely. Instead of being their 
jailer the soldier tried to show them every attention ; 
and while the chief exchanged a few polite words with 
him, Captain Griffith climbed the tower again, and 
found that the worst of the wind had died out, what 
was left coming from another quarter, so that there 
was no longer any difficulty about launching the boat. 

It took some time to prepare to start, replacing the 
sail, packing the dishes, and getting the boat into the 
water ; but the sun was just nicely up over the Cor- 
niclie when they sailed into the Old Port again. 

After reaching the North Cape , Kit soon went 
ashore to find the agents ; but it was still much too 
early for the Captain to do any business at the Cus- 
tom House, and he remained on board. Harry set 
about cleaning the cabin, making a great show of in- 
dustry, but wondering all the time what the Captain 
would say or do to him. He had not forgotten 
the remark that Kit had made to him, long before, 
about the rope’s-end in the Captain’s room. To be 
sure, Captain Grffith had always treated him very 
kindly ; but he had never before done anything quite 
as bad as to go to sleep on watch. The thought 
of the rope’s-end troubled him ; and it was still 
troubling him when the Captain’s bell rang. 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 22J 

“Now I’m in for it!” he said to himself. “I’m 
glad there’s nobody else down here but the steward, 
anyhow.” 

“Come in here and shut the door, Henry,” the 
Captain said, when he answered the call. 

“ Oh, yes, I’m in for it now,” he thought. “ This 
is the death chamber, sure.” 

“ Come up here where I can look at you,” the 
Captain said. He was seated in front of his desk. 
“ I want to see whether you realize what it means 
for a man to go to sleep on watch. If we had been 
left locked in that cell, and had all starved there, 
who would have been responsible for it ? ” 

“ It would have been my fault, sir,” Harry an- 
swered. 

“It would have been your fault,” the Captain 
repeated. “ If a sailor goes to sleep on watch, and a 
collision results, and lives are lost, he is responsible 
for it, and the law would punish him. The man on 
watch often holds the lives of his comrades in his 
hand, and he should always feel the responsibility.” 

The Captain stood up as he spoke and stepped 
toward Harry, but the cabin boy did not shrink. He 
had made up his mind to take whatever came, with- 
out flinching. 

“ I think you understand what a grave fault you 
committed,” the Captain went on, laying his hand on 
Harry’s shoulder, “ and feel sorry for it. That is not 
all the punishment you deserve, but it is all you will get 
this time, as we were on shore and on a pleasure trip 


228 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


But never let me catch you asleep on watch again. 
Now get out about your business.” 

Harry was not the first cabin boy who had gone 
into Captain Griffith’s room expecting something un- 
pleasant, and had come out feeling that he would 
swim through stormy seas to serve such a captain 
as that. Perhaps that was the reason that nearly 
every one of the Captain’s cabin boys had turned 
out well. 

It was almost noon when Kit returned to the ship, 
feeling rather dissatisfied with the way his affairs 
had gone on shore. 

“ What’s the matter, Silburn ? ” the Captain asked 
him while they sat at dinner. “Have they been 
doing you up ? You have to look out for them here, 
or they’ll get the strings right out of your shoes. 
This place is famous for that. They have a large 
population in Marseilles from Italy, Spain, Turkey, 
Greece, Syria, all over creation, all in a hurry to 
make money without caring much how it is made. 
They tell me that when Marseilles people buy any- 
thing in a store they very often won’t let the shop- 
keeper wrap it up, for fear he will change it.” 

“No, sir,” Kit answered, “ they haven’t been rob- 
bing me ; they have had no chance. But our agents 
here are curious sort of people, and I am afraid they 
will give me as much trouble as they can. Indeed, 
they have given me a great deal more trouble already 
than there was any need of. One of the first things 
they said was that they would smooth the way for 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 229 

me to get my stuff through, and I could do the same 
for what they would send over to New York.” 

66 Did they, though?” the Captain asked, laughing. 
“ And what did you say to that ? ” 

“ Why, I was green enough not to know what they 
meant, sir. I supposed they referred to the cargo, so 
I said it had been properly entered and there would 
be no trouble about getting it through, and it would 
be the same thing in New York. I can see now, 
from the way they looked at me, that they could not 
cpiite make out whether I was really so innocent, or 
only pretending to be. At any rate, I soon found 
that they supposed I had brought some goods on my 
own account, which I would want to smuggle ashore, 
and that they wanted to send some in the same way 
when we go back.” 

“ That was what they meant, and no mistake,” 
the Captain said. “ There is a great deal of that 
kind of business done.” 

“ Not by me, sir,” Kit went on. “I told them 
very plainly that I had brought nothing but what 
was on my manifests, and that if they wanted to 
smuggle anything into New York they would have 
to try some other ship. That offended them, I am 
afraid, for they became very cool, and left me to find 
my way about and make my own arrangements. If 
they can find any fault here with my work, and give 
a bad account of me to my employers, I think they 
will be pretty sure to do it.” 

“ Well, you have the satisfaction of being in the 


230 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


right,” the Captain answered, “ and they are very 
clearly in the wrong. They will hardly be likely to 
expose their dishonest intentions by making any 
complaints in New York. At any rate, your work 
will show for itself when you get back, if you carry 
it through well.” 

“ I have got along all right so far without their 
assistance,” Kit continued ; a but it is a new experi- 
ence to deal with agents who are disposed to hinder 
rather than help.” 

“ Y-e-s,” said the Captain, dryly. “You will find 
that you have still one or two things to learn in the 
world. Well?” 

“ I have picked up more information than I should 
have got if I had been depending upon them. If 
they think I can’t land a cargo of oil without their 
help, they are very much mistaken.” 

“ Oh, ho ! ” the Captain laughed ; “ my young 
supercargo is beginning to feel his oats! Quite 
right, lad. And if they don’t have the homeward 
cargo ready for you promptly, their principals will 
have something to say to them. You may be sure 
of that.” 

“ This wharf that we are at,” Kit went on, “ they 
call the ‘ Quai de la Fraternite.’ The oil is to go 
into that warehouse just across the street. They 
talked about keeping us a week before their steve- 
dore could take out our cargo, so I found one my- 
self and made a contract with him, and his men are 
to begin work to-morrow morning.” 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 23 1 

“ Good for the young American ! ” the Captain 
cried. “ If these people get too high, just remember 
that there is such a thing as a cable under the ocean, 
and that in a few hours you can get orders from 
New York that they are bound to obey as well as 
you” 

“ Yes, sir ; but I hope it will not come to that. 
That square stone building across the port,” Kit 
went on, “ is the Hotel de Ville, or City Hall. You 
see I am getting to be quite a Frenchman. And 
this wide street that runs down to the end of the 
port is the Cannebiere, the main street of Marseilles, 
that is mentioned so often in ‘ Monte Cristo.’ And 
when you follow it up a little ways, it changes into 
the Allee Meilhan, where Monte Cristo’ s father died, 
you know. Then over at that corner of the port 
there begins a wide street called the Rue de la Re- 
publique, which runs diagonally down to the break- 
water. 

“ Well, you have made good use of your morning,” 
the Captain declared. 

“ Oh, that is only a beginning, sir,” Kit laughed. 
“ I hear that this is considered the unhealthiest city 
in Europe, because it is so dirty. Why, only three 
or four years ago all the sewers emptied into this 
basin, and they say the smell of it was something 
frightful.” 

“ I can testify to that,” the Captain interrupted. 
“ Last time I was here it was a standing joke that 
no ship need take in ballast in Marseilles — the 


232 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


smell of the harbor was strong enough for ballast. 
It is none too sweet yet, for that matter.” 

“ And still it is a very fine city,” Kit said; “the 
most interesting place I have ever seen. There are 
so many strange things here. That church of Notre- 
Dame-de-la-Garde keeps staring at me from its hill- 
top wherever I go. I have a strong notion to go to 
see it this afternoon, for I shall be very busy after 
we begin work.” 

“ You will have plenty of time after dinner,” the- 
Captain replied. “ And I can promise you that you 
will not be disappointed. We don’t hear much about 
it in America, because Marseilles is very little known 
there ; but to my mind that church is one of tlie 
greatest sights in Europe. I won’t go with you this 
time, for I lost too much sleep last night and want a 
nap. But this will be a capital day to go. The 
Mistral is rising again, and on the top of that hill 
you will learn something about the force of the wind. 
You can take Henry with you if you want him, for 
sight-seeing alone is stupid work.” 

Kit was very glad for this permission, both on 
Harry’s account and his own ; and toward the middle 
of the afternoon they went ashore and took an omni- 
bus to the “ Garden of the Ascenseurs,” as the start- 
ing-point for the church is called. 

“Well, if this is an omnibus, then I never saw a 
street car,” Harry declared. “ It’s exactly like a 
street car. Why do they call it an omnibus, I 
wonder ?” 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 233 

“ Because it does not run on tracks,” Kit explained. 
“ You see there are no rails ; it goes right over the 
paving-stones. It does look like a street car, that’s 
a fact, and has the same small wheels.” 

“ Everything is different here from anywhere 
else,” Harry went on. “ Just look at the names of 
the streets ! First we came up the Cannebiere, then 
up Rue Paradis. Then we turned up the Cours 
Pierre Puget into Rue Breteuil, and now we are 
going up the Rue Dragon. What would they think 
of such names in Huntington, Kit ? But the ascen- 
seurs ! That’s what takes me. What are they, Kit ? 
some kind of animals ? ” 

^ Why, the word is almost English,” Kit laughed. 
“We call them elevators, in London they call them 
lifts, and in France they are called ascenseurs. They 
are elevators, that’s all, to take us up the hill.” 

“ Say, old man, I don’t see where you learn so 
many things!” Harry exclaimed. “We only got 
here yesterday, and you travel about this town like 
a native.” 

“ What do you think my eyes are for ?” Kit asked. 
“ But here we are. This seems to be the end of 
navigation.” 

The omnibus had run through a big gateway into 
a small garden, and could go no further because at 
the end of the garden an immense hill of rock rose 
almost straight into the air. As they stepped out, an 
old man held a tin box in front of them, with a hole 
in the top to drop coins through. 


234 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ No, thank you,” said Harry, “ T don’t care for 
any to-day. They have a good stock of beggars in 
this town,” he added to Kit, “ but that’s the first one 
I ever saw in uniform.” 

“ He begs for the sailors’ hospital, so the guide- 
book says,” Kit answered, as he dropped a ten-cen- 
time piece into the box. “ There, what do you think 
of going up the hill in that thing ? ” 

He pointed, as he spoke, to a great pile of masonry 
that rose almost straight up the side of the hill, with 
two tracks, one on each side, and near the top a 
series of dark and forbidding arches. The whole 
thing had an Uncanny look ; and they heard the 
rapid flow of a stream of water, but could not 
see it. 

“Phew!” Harry exclaimed. “I don’t like the 
looks of it very much. I’ve never made a practice 
of going to church in an elevator, you know. But I 
suppose it must be safe enough, as other people use 
it.” 

At the foot of the masonry was a small open 
pavilion where a man sold tickets for the elevators ; 
and after paying their fares, eighty centimes, or six- 
teen cents, each, which entitled them to go up and 
come down, they passed through a turnstile and 
stepped into a car nearly as large as a small room, 
with a seat across the back, large windows in the 
front, and before the windows a narrow platform, on 
which stood the brakeman. 

The only other occupant of the car was a priest 


A VISIT TO NOTRE-DAME-DE-LA-GARDE. 


dressed in tlie garb of his order — a low black hat 
with broad brim turned up at the sides, long black 
robe with a cape, and the usual black bow trimmed 
with a narrow edge of white at the throat — the 
common costume of a Continental priest. He was 
a pleasant-looking old man with nearly white hair ; 
and it was plain that he was accustomed to mak- 
ing the ascent, for he paid no attention to the 
strange surroundings, but sat quietly reading a small 
book. 

“ If you tell me what it is, you can have it,” 
Harry said, nudging Kit with his elbow and direct- 
ing his eyes toward the priest. “ I suppose it’s a 
man, though it’s dressed like a woman. What in 
the world do they put black petticoats on their 
priests for in this part of the world ? But take a 
look at the hat, will you ? Nobody could invent an 
uglier hat than that, not if he sat up nights thinking 
about it.” 

Before Kit could reply a bell tapped, the brake- 
man turned the little iron wheel by his side, and the 
car began to ascend — not quietly and smoothly, like 
most elevators, but with an oscillating motion and 
the noise of a great rush of water. 

In half a minute, as they went up, they were far 
above the roof of the pavilion, above everything 
about them but the hill, and Marseilles seemed to lie 
at their feet. It was a grand sight from the very 
beginning, and grew grander every moment. 

“ Yes, it’s a big thing, Kit,” Harry cried. “ It’s 


236 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


the greatest sight we’ve seen yet. London hadn’t 
anything like this to offer.” 

At this minute the priest closed his little book and 
leaned over toward the boys. 

“ Is this your first visit to the Church of Our 
Lady, my young friends?” he asked, very pleasantly 
and in excellent English. “You seem to be strangers. 
You must let me be your guide when we get to the 
top, for I am quite familiar with the place.” 

It was such a surprise to the boys that they barely 
had presence of mind to answer politely. And Harry 
could hardly look at the wonderful view for think- 
ing of the remarks he had made about the obliging 
priest’s clothes. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 

W HEN the car reached the summit, the priest 
stepped out, and the boys followed. 

“ Here,” he said, stepping up to the parapet and 
making a sweep around the horizon with one arm, 
“ you have one of the grandest views in Europe. It 
is not as extensive as the view from the Eiffel Tower 
in Paris, and of course there is not such a wilderness 
of buildings around us. But here you have what is 
lacking there, a great body of water for a background. 
You do not see much of the Mediterranean from this 
terrace, because the remainder of the hill is in the 
way ; we still have a considerable part of the hill to 
climb, you know. But from the level of the church 
there is a grand view of the sea.” 

u There could hardly be a better view of the city, 
sir, than there is from here,” Kit answered. “ The 
entire place seems to be just below us, and the hills 
by which it is enclosed. The Old Port looks from 
here like a little pond. But I can make out our ship 
very plainly, though she looks like a toy boat from 
this distance. It is the third steamer from the end, 
on this side, sir.” 


2 37 


238 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 

“Ah, then you are sailors, are you?” the priest 
asked. “ And I know from your manner of speech 
that you are Americans.” 

“ Not exactly sailors, sir,” Harry said, thinking it 
time for him to take a little part in the conversation. 
“ Mr. Silburn is supercargo of that steamer he showed 
you, the North Cape , and I am the cabin boy.” 

“ Then you have a great opportunity to see many 
parts of the world,” the priest answered. “ But in all 
your travels you will hardly see anything more un- 
usual than the church we are about to visit. There 
are other churches on hilltops, but none with as many 
curious phases as this. I have remained for several 
weeks in Marseilles solely for the sake of becoming 
well acquainted with it.” 

“ Then you do not live in Marseilles, sir ? ” Kit 
asked. “ I suppose that according to the custom of 
the country we ought to call you ‘ father ’ ; but we 
are Americans and Protestants, and not accustomed 
to such things.” 

“ It is not of the least consequence,” the priest 
answered, with a smile. “ I would not have you 
depart from what you believe to be right. It is not 
a good plan to be Protestant in America and a Catho- 
lic in Europe and a Mohammedan in Turkey, and a 
Confucian in China. Whatever you are, stick to it 
wherever you go. No,” he went on, “ I do not live 
in Marseilles. My home overlooks this same beauti- 
ful blue sea, but it is many leagues from here. 1 live 
in Rome.” 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 239 

“ We need not linger here/’ the priest continued, 
“ for the view is much broader from the church. 
Come this way, and we will ascend to the summit.” 

He led the way under a heavy stone arch to a long, 
broad stone viaduct, like a bridge, extending from 
the column of masonry to the hill beyond. Then the 
wide stone walk went up, up, with occasional flights 
of five or six steps. At the further end of this was 
a longer flight of stone steps, then a turn and another 
flight, and they were in front of the entrance to a 
solid stone fort, with a soldier on guard at the gate. 
At this level the gale was so strong that they could 
hardly keep their feet. But still they kept on, up 
more stone steps, till they came to the portico of the 
church. 

“ We seem to be the only visitors this afternoon,” 
the priest said, “ though generally there are a number 
of persons here. I suppose they do not like the high 
wind.” 

Instead of ascending the last flight of steps, lead- 
ing to the interior of the church, they turned to the 
left on a broad stone promenade extending around 
the building. On one side of this was a low stone 
house with several doors, and over one of the doors 
a sign bearing the words, “ Cafe, chocolat, vins fins 
et ordinaire, spiriteaux, tabac.” 

“ Look at the gin-mill ! ” Harry exclaimed. “ Who 
ever heard of a — ” But he recollected himself before 
he went any further, and stopped suddenly. 

“.Do not stop on my account,” the priest said, with 


240 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


a low, pleasant little laugh. “ It looks odd to you, 
I know, to see a liquor shop attached to a church. 
But every country has its own customs, you know. 
And here the conditions are very unusual. This is 
not only a church, but a fort too, as well as a signal 
station. All the ships that enter the harbor are 
signalled from the poles on the other side of the 
building.” 

When they turned the corner, they had a beautiful 
view of the Mediterranean for many miles, and the 
harbor with its forts and breakwater, and the long 
range of minor hills and valleys lying between the 
city and its encircling mountains. 

“ This little house, I believe,” the priest said as 
they turned again, pointing to a small stone build- 
ing that stood on the edge of the promenade, almost 
overhanging the precipice, “ is for the use of the 
clergy attached to the church. But I have not 
made the acquaintance of any of them, so I cannot 
take you in. Perhaps we had better go up now into 
the church.” 

They stopped, however, in front of the church door 
while the priest pointed out the moat, crossed by a 
heavy drawbridge, which they had come over with- 
out noticing. 

“ On account of the fort it was necessary to make 
the church capable of defence also,” he explained. 
“ In case of need the church could make a very 
strong defence, with the bridge drawn up. I think 
you have no fortified churches in your country ? ” 



“they had a beautiful view of THE MEDITERRANEAN." 




THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 24 1 

“ No, sir,” Kit replied ; “ I never saw one before. 
There are a great many things in Europe that we do 
not have in America.” 

“ Ah, but you are modest about it!” the priest 
laughed. “ You have also a great many things there 
that we do not have here.” 

As they ascended the inner steps they found a 
little shop on each side of the entrance, kept by 
elderly women who were evidently sisters of some 
order, as they were clad from head to foot in white 
nuns’-cloth. The goods they sold were crosses, 
medallions, strings of beads, pictures of the church, 
and other sacred emblems. And just outside, in full 
view, was the office where masses for the repose of 
the souls of the dead could be arranged for and the 
bills paid, and where large and small candles for 
church use were also sold. 

A big doorway on the first landing opened into a 
crypt or lower chapel ; but the iron gate across was 
locked, and they went up another flight of steps to 
the church proper — a church of no unusual size, 
but one of the handsomest and most artistic in 
France, with walls and pillars of marble, red jasper, 
and other costly materials. Near the doors were 
two large stands with innumerable holders for can- 
dles, in which many were burning, some as tall as 
a man, others not much larger than the ordinary 
household candles. 

The priest had pointed out the curious toy ships 
hanging from the ceiling, all offerings from mariners 


242 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


who had been delivered from peril ; the hundreds of 
tablets on the walls, “ like peppermint lozenges with 
blue borders,” as Harry whispered to Kit ; and the 
costly altar decorations, when he suddenly stopped 
and looked at his watch. 

“ I think we had better go out a moment,” he said, 
“and learn how late the ascenseurs run. It would 
be awkward to be left up here after they had made 
their last trip for the night.” 

When they reached the stone promenade they saw 
several men running at great speed toward the as- 
censeurs ; but whether something had happened or 
whether the men were trying to catch the car, was 
more than they could tell. The priest, however, 
asked the attendant who sat near the church door, 
and so learned the truth. 

“ There is some trouble with the ascenseurs,” he 
explained, after a short conversation in French with 
the attendant. “ Not exactly an accident, but some 
part of the engine was broken down, and they cannot 
run till it is repaired. They think all will be in 
order again in half an hour, so we need give ourselves 
no uneasiness about it.” 

“ That is a capital illustration of the fallibility of 
all things human,” he continued, as they stepped 
back out of the wind. “ Those ascenseurs are sup- 
posed to be as nearly perfect as such mechanism can 
be made. It was thought that nothing could possibly 
happen to them. They operate on what is known as 
the 4 water balance ’ system. As one car goes down 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 243 

the other goes up ; and there is a water tank under 
each car. Before a car starts from the top, its tank 
is filled with water by an engine that forces the 
water up through a pipe, and the added weight of the 
water makes it so much heavier that it easily draws 
the other car up. Then there are four large wire 
cables attached to each car, besides the usual devices 
for bringing the cars to a stop in case the cables 
should break. That looks as if every possible dan- 
ger had been guarded against, doesn’t it ? Yet some 
trifling thing about the engine gives way, and the 
whole beautiful mechanism is for the time made use- 
less. You will find all through life, my boys, that 
no matter how carefully you lay your plans, they 
will sometimes miscarry. It is only those things that 
the great Creator arranges for us that always go 
right. This solid church may crumble, but the skies 
above it will still be as blue, the wind still sweep as 
furiously across the summit of this hill. Remember 
that, my children. Whether you follow the faith 
that I love, or the newer forms that I hope you love 
equally well, you must find in the end that all rests 
upon the one foundation, the great Creator who makes 
no mistakes, whose love is eternal, who doeth all 
things well.” 

Kit looked up in surprise to hear a priest speak in 
this way. There were few Catholics in his part of 
Fairfield County, and he had never given the subject 
much attention; but from what he had heard of 
them he rather imagined that they — well, not that 


244 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


they would eat him exactly, or insist upon burning 
candles in front of his face, but that at any rate they 
would not be likely to see good in any religion except 
their own. But this man was very different from 
the hazy ideas he had had of Catholic priests. He 
did not look or speak like a bigot. As Kit examined 
his face more closely he thought it one of the most 
kindly and most intellectual faces he had ever seen. 
And certainly he was a man of great knowledge. 
Whatever subject came up in the conversation, he 
was familiar with. He had even talked about the 
management of a steamship as knowingly as if he 
had been a sailor. He spoke English and French 
with equal ease ; as a priest he must also speak 
Latin ; and as a resident of Rome he must speak 
Italian. Kit noticed, too, that although his outer 
clothing was shaped in the usual priestly fashion, it 
was made of very fine materials. His boots were 
delicate and highly polished. 

The greater part of the half-hour they spent in 
examining the curious objects in the church, and what 
the boys did not understand the priest explained to 
them. He was an invaluable guide and a pleasant 
companion, and they were sorry when he said that 
they had better go out again to see whether the 
ascenseurs were yet running. 

They were surprised to find that it was pitch dark 
when they went out into the air, for the church was 
lighted with gas. And the wind had increased and 
was blowing even a worse gale than before. They 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 245 

groped their way down the steps as far as the 
entrance to the fort, and the priest held a short 
conversation with the guard. 

“ He says the break has proved more serious than 
was thought,” their guide said, “ and the ascenseurs 
will not be able to move for several hours. But 
workmen are busy making repairs, and they will be 
in running order again some time during the evening. 
So under the circumstances I think it will be safer 
for us to wait. Of course there is a path down the 
hill, as I know to my cost, for I walked down it a few 
days ago, lost my way, and had to do more climbing 
than I have done since I was about your age. But it 
would be extremely difficult and dangerous in this 
darkness, and on such a night. We cannot well wait 
so long in the church ; but if you will come with me, 
I will see whether I cannot induce the authorities to 
give us more comfortable quarters.” 

“ You must not put yourself to any trouble on our 
account, sir,” Kit answered, though he was rather 
pleased at the idea of spending a few hours more 
with so agreeable a companion, as well as with having 
another little adventure on his second night in Mar- 
seilles. “ We can get along very well in any sheltered 
place ; and as you are a stranger here it might put 
you to some inconvenience.” 

“ I am not a stranger in any church dedicated to 
the Holy Mother of God,” the priest answered ; and 
from the movement of his hands the boys imagined 
that he was crossing himself, though it was too dark 


246 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


for them to see. And he spoke as if he felt as sure 
of finding a welcome there as though he were about 
to open the door of his own house. 

The priest led the way up the steps again to the 
church door, and said a few words in French to the 
attendant, which of course the boys did not under- 
stand. But as he drew a silver card-case from an 
inner pocket and handed a card to the man, they 
rightly judged that he was inquiring for the clergy- 
man in charge, and sending his card to him. 

“ I did not intend to introduce myself in Mar- 
seilles,” he said, after the man had disappeared with 
the card ; “ but my poor old throat is too weak to 
risk long exposure on such a night, and I must find 
shelter. And you shall share it with me, for I am 
your guide, philosopher, and friend on this occasion. 
You need not be surprised at anything you may see. 
You are in the house of God, and in company of one 
of the humblest of his servants.” 

Kit would have given a great deal for a chance to 
exchange a few words with Harry. But as that was 
impossible he had to do his own thinking unassisted. 
He began to feel somehow as if he was on the brink 
of another adventure, perhaps stranger even than the 
night in Louis-Philippe’s cell. This was no ordinary 
priest, he was sure. Instead of acting like a man 
asking for shelter, he seemed rather to be waiting for 
something that he was entitled to. 

And what could he mean by telling them not to be 
surprised at anything they might see ? Surprised ! 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 247 

the boys were surprised enough already. Their weird 
surroundings thrilled them. The hill of Notre-Dame, 
with all its strange accessories, is thrilling under the 
broad noonday sun ; but on this night of inky dark- 
ness, with the lights of Marseilles twinkling far 
beneath them, and the church walls, though solid as 
the fort itself, trembling under the thundering blasts 
of the gale, it was enough to stir the blood of older 
men than Kit or Harry, without the addition of a 
mysterious priest warning them against surprise. 

In a few minutes they heard footsteps coming 
down one of the long, gloomy aisles, and the attend- 
ant returned, accompanied by a priest dressed pre- 
cisely like their companion, except that he carried no 
hat. He looked around for a moment in the semi- 
darkness, this second priest, approached the little 
group, and immediately dropped upon his knees 
before the stranger. As he did so, the latter put out 
both hands as if to help him rise, and the boys 
noticed that their companion had removed his gloves, 
that his hands were beautifully small and white, and 
that upon one of his fingers was a large and spar- 
kling seal ring. The kneeling priest took the hands 
in his and either kissed one of them or kissed the 
ring, it was impossible to tell which. 

The boys disobeyed instructions at once. They 
were both surprised already. 

Before rising the priest received the benediction 
from the newcomer, and in another moment they 
were conversing in Latin ; not, it seemed to Kit, like 


248 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

equals talking together, but more like an inferior 
speaking to a superior. The conversation lasted for 
some minutes ; and at its conclusion the priest of the 
church, with a profound bow, led the way down the 
steps, across the stone promenade, and into the small 
house in which, as their guide had told them, the 
clergy made their headquarters. It was not, as the 
boys soon saw, a place where the priests lived, but 
simply where they could sit and read and make them- 
selves comfortable while waiting for the numerous 
services during the day and evening ; and an adjoin- 
ing room, the door of which stood open when they 
entered, was evidently devoted to the uses of the 
sisters in white. 

The room was in darkness at first, but the priest 
began to light the wax candles that seemed to be 
kept more for ornament than use, and it was soon 
bright as day. He drew up chairs for the visitor 
and his companions, and then, with man } 7 Ioav bows, 
excused himself and went out. The apartment 
looked somewhat bare, but its scant furniture was 
heavy and solid. 

“ This will answer our purpose while we are de- 
tained here,” their friend said when they were alone. 
“ I have asked them to let us have a fire, for the 
wind makes the air chilly.” 

In an incredibly short time, the priest returned 
with a number of attendants, each bearing a load of 
some kind — attendants, who were evidently young 
men in training for the priesthood, for they all wore 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME . 249 

semi-priestly costumes. Two of them carried a 
large and handsomely carved armchair from the 
church. Another had a large purple cloth over his 
arm. Another bore a footstool, and still another 
brought an armful of wood. 

Surprising as all this was, the boys were still more 
surprised to see that each person as he entered the 
room immediately dropped upon his knees, and rose 
only when their guide motioned them to do so, 
which he did immediately. The two with the big 
chair had to set it down before they could kneel ; 
but the young man with the armful of wood had the 
hardest time getting down and up again. 

The big chair was placed by the side of the hearth, 
and with the heavy purple cloth thrown over it, and 
the footstool in front, it began to look, the boys 
thought, very much like a throne. But their guide 
seated himself in it as readily as if a throne was his 
customary seat, and talked in Latin again with the 
priest, while one of the young men started a blazing 
fire. When the priest withdrew again, as he did in 
a few minutes, accompanied by the young men, it 
was with many low bows, and walking backward 
toward the door. 

“ Some of them are going to break their necks if 
this thing keeps on,” Harry said to himself. He 
was fairly tingling for a chance to talk to Kit, but 
that was still impossible. “ But I’d like to know 
what sort of a Grand High Panjandrum this is we’re 
travelling with. It must be an awful nuisance to be 


250 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


such a big gun that people have to get down on 
their knees to you. Why, I don’t believe you have 
to kneel when you go to see the Governor of Connect- 
icut ; no, nor the President.” 

“ They are going to bring us some trifling refresh- 
ment,” their guide said, “ as we shall lose our din- 
ners through this accident to the ascenseurs.” Then 
seeing that the boys hardly knew how to conduct 
themselves in what was for them a very awkward 
situation, he skilfully led them into conversation. 
How long had they been in Marseilles, and what had 
they seen ? 

Kit was soon started with the story of their visit 
to the Castle d’lf and what befell them there, in 
which their friend was very much interested. Then 
he was led on and on, almost without knowing it, to 
tell something of his own history ; and that took 
him naturally to the disappearance of his father, and 
the possibility that he might be the strange man in 
the New Zealand hospital. 

“ It is a great trial to be kept in such suspense,” 
their guide said ; “ but whatever comes of it you 
must always feel that it is for the best. I am glad 
to know that I may perhaps be of a little assistance 
to you in such a matter. We may never meet again, 
but I shall be happy if I can give you cause to re- 
member your visit to Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde with 
the stranger from Rome. I have a very dear friend 
in New Zealand who may be of the greatest assist- 
ance to you in identifying the man in the hospital, 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 25 I 

or in providing suitably for him if he proves to be 
your father — as indeed I hope he may. I will give 
you a line to my friend, and you must not hesitate 
to use it if occasion arises.” 

He took from an inner pocket, as he spoke, a 
small letter-case with silver clasp and corners, opened 
it, and with the fountain pen it contained wrote a 
brief letter, resting the case upon his knee, enclosed 
it in an envelope which he addressed, and handed 
it to Kit. 

“ If you should go to New Zealand to make in- 
quiries for yourself,” he said, “ do not fail to present 
it, or if you send it by mail, write a letter of your 
own to accompany it, explaining the case. You will 
find it of use to you.” 

“ Thank you very much, sir,” Kit answered, as he 
took the letter. “ I cannot tell what will be best to 
do till we hear from the consul there.” 

The letter-case was hardly restored to its place 
before the priest returned, bringing again several 
attendants who carried a large tray loaded with 
silver eating and drinking utensils, a silver urn of 
steaming tea, bread, meats, cakes, fruit, nuts, and 
cheese. Again they all went through the kneeling 
process ; and they were shortly followed by several 
more priests, who were duly introduced to the dis- 
tinguished visitor. 

While they were eating, all the priests and attend- 
ants withdrew; and the “they” included the boys 
as well as the stranger, for he had thoughtfully 


252 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


asked for food for his friends as well as for himself. 
After a suitable interval the priests returned, kneeling 
as before, the tray was removed, and the priests, at the 
stranger’s bidding, drew up chairs, and a conversation 
followed, sometimes in Latin, sometimes in French. 

The boys could easily see that they were as much 
of a mystery to the priests as the whole thing was 
to them. Here were two young men, whose dress 
showed that they were not in holy orders, who did 
not even speak the language of the country, but who 
sat and talked and ate with the distinguished 
stranger as if with an equal ; who did not kneel to 
him, did not even bow when they stood before him, 
but spoke to him and asked him questions as freely 
as if he had been their father. If the boys could 
have understood a few words of the conversation, 
their situation would have been much less awkward ; 
but it was all as bad as Greek to them, and they 
could do nothing but sit and listen. 

For the next hour or two the priests were in and 
out, bowing themselves out backwards always as 
they retired, kneeling always as they entered ; and 
in the intervals the boys enjoyed the conversation of 
their guide, who had been in many countries and had 
seen many strange things. He had been in America, 
much to their delight, and could tell them more than 
they knew about New York and Boston. He had 
been in Bridgeport, too ; but when they asked 
whether he had been in Huntington he smiled and 
shook his head. 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 253 

There was no need now to make inquiries about 
the repairs to the ascenseurs, for every priest who 
entered the room had something to say about the 
progress of the work, and the visitor kept the boys 
informed in English. They would be running again 
in an hour ; in half an hour ; in ten minutes. Then 
came the news that they were running, but would 
make a few trips first to be sure of their safety. It 
was between eleven and twelve o’clock when they 
were told that all was in readiness for them to de- 
scend. 

Outside the door of the little house were two 
young attendants with lanterns ; and the priests 
themselves were there to take their visitor by the 
arms and help him down through the stormy dark- 
ness to the ascenseurs. And four priests went down 
with them in the car; and in the pavilion at the 
bottom the whole four fell upon their knees around 
the stranger to receive his benediction before he left 
them. And a handsome carriage was waiting (the 
priests had taken care of that), in which the stranger 
insisted that the boys should drive with him into the 
city. 

“ I am staying at the Hotel de Louvre et de la 
Paix,” he said, “ so it will be directly in my way to 
set you down at the Old Port where your ship 
lies.” 

He bade them a fatherly good-by when they got 
out, and they climbed aboard the North Cape in the 
darkness. 


254 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Just pinch me, will you, Kit,” Harry said, when 
they were safely on deck. “ I don’t know whether 
I’m a cabin boy or a sort of graven image on that 
big altar.” 

Captain Griffith was still up and reading, and he 
called the boys into his room. 

“ You made a long visit to that church,” he said. 
“ I was getting a little alarmed about you.” 

“We have been in good company, sir,” Kit an- 
swered. And he briefly told the story of their ad- 
venture. “ I really don’t feel quite sure yet that we 
have not been dreaming,” he concluded. “ Yes, it 
must have been real, though, for here is the letter 
the gentleman gave me.” 

He held the dainty envelope down under the light, 
and read the address : — 

“ THE MOST REVEREND 
THE BISHOP OF NEW ZEALAND 
Wellington , N.Z.” 

“Well,” the Captain exclaimed, “the letter is not 
sealed. You can easily tell by the signature who 
your distinguished friend was.” 

Kit took the letter out and tried to read it, but 
soon gave it up. 

“ It is all written in Latin, and I can’t make out a 
word of it,” he said, handing it to the Captain. 

“ Don’t you see that little scarlet emblem up. in 
the corner ? ” the Captain asked, as soon as he glanced 
at it. “ That is the emblem of a cardinal, as 1 thought 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER FROM ROME. 2$$ 

everybody knew. Yes, certainly. It is signed 
‘ Galotti.’ You youngsters have been hobnobbing 
with Cardinal Galotti. Get off to bed, Henry; I 
can’t have my cabin boy fooling around with Princes 
of the Church.” 


CHAPTER XY. 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 

HE little cottage in Huntington took on a new 



-L coat of white while Kit was seeing the world 
and earning money beyond the sea. All the weak 
spots were mended, the yard was put in order, the 
trees trimmed, and in the rear a neat garden was 
made, where, toward the end of the afternoons, Mrs. 
Silburn and Vieve went out in sunbonnets and pulled 
weeds and did such other work as women’s hands 
were able to perform. It was a very different look- 
ing place from the dingy spot it had become a year 
before under the shock of its owner’s disappearance. 
And better than all, the last cent of indebtedness 
upon it had been paid off. 

“ I am glad you are able to do this, Mrs. Silburn ; 
glad on your own account,” the lawyer said when 
she made the last payment. “ I hardly expected it, 
with the trouble you have had. I was prepared to 
give you as much time as you wanted in paying this 
up.” 

“ Oh, you have been very good, Mr. Clarkson,” 
Mrs. Silburn answered. “ For a time I thought I 
should have to ask you for an extension. But 1 did 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 


25; 


not know then what a good boy I had. Yes, I knew 
it of course ; but I did not know that he would be 
able to do so much for me so soon.” 

“ Yes, you have a good boy, and no mistake,” the 
lawyer assented. “ But you can hardly call him a boy 
any more. When do you expect him home again ? ” 

“ In three or four weeks, now, I hope. And you 
know we have a little hope of seeing some one else, 
too. It is a faint chance ; but if the man I told you 
of in the New Zealand hospital should prove to be 
my husband, we want to have everything in order 
for him when he returns. That is the reason Kit 
was so anxious to have the house painted ; and that 
is why I have struggled to have all the debts paid. 
We are looking every day for a letter from the con- 
sul in New Zealand.” 

It was putting it very mildly to say that they were 
“ looking” for a letter from the consul. They were 
so eager for it that they did not let a single mail 
arrive without going to the little post-office on the 
hill. Not only that, but they had matters arranged 
so that as Yieve came down the hill from the office, 
she could let her mother know in advance of her 
arrival whether she had got any letters. Their front 
windows looked across to the diagonal road that went 
up past the post-office ; and Yieve was to wave the 
letter, if she got one, as she came down the hill, so 
that her mother, sitting sewing by the window, would 
see it. 

Yieve was cook and housekeeper, now that her 


258 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


mother was busy all day sewing, and she took 
pride in leaving everything in good order when she 
started for school. Not that the cooking was very 
hard work. They often said, laughingly, that Kit 
would give them both a good scolding if he should 
come home unexpectedly and see what they had for 
breakfast. A cup of coffee, a few slices of bread and 
butter, occasionally some eggs, or a handful of rad- 
ishes from the garden, made their usual fare ; and the 
other meals were equally light, though Mrs. Silburn 
insisted that every few days they should have a steak 
or some chops for health’s sake. 

“ It’s a sinful waste of money ! ” Vieve always 
declared. “We don’t need them half as much as 
we need the money. Remember you can’t bring a 
man home from New Zealand for nothing. Any- 
how, it’s a shame for us to eat up the money that 
Kit works so hard for — and you sewing, sewing all 
the time. I’m going to find a way to earn a little 
money myself, as soon as I can. I don’t want to be 
the only one to make nothing.” 

“ Then who will take care of me ? ” Mrs. Silburn’s 
invariable answer was. 

One morning she knew there was a letter by the 
way Vieve came running down the hill, even before 
it was waved in the air for her. And Vieve burst 
in flushed and breathless. 

“ I’m almost afraid to open it,” Mrs. Silburn said. 
“ So much depends upon this letter, and it may crush 
all our hopes.” 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND . 259 

“ Not this letter ! ” Vieve laughed. “ This is not 
from that consul man, this is from Kit ; and his 
letters never crush anybody’s hopes.” 

It was a letter telling of his safe arrival in Mar- 
seilles, and his night in Louis-Philippe’s cell in the 
Castle d’lf, and his visit to Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde 
with Harry and their meeting with the distinguished 
stranger who proved to be a cardinal. 

“ A cardinal!” Vieve exclaimed; “just think of 
our Kit travelling about with a cardinal. He’ll be so 
proud when he gets home we won’t know what to 
say to him.” 

“ Indeed, I think any cardinal or anybody else 
ought to be proud to associate with a young man 
like Kit,” Mrs. Silburn hastened to answer. “ I 
don’t know that I want him running about with 
cardinals, either. They’re papists, and the papists 
are all tricky. It would be just like them to try to 
make a Catholic of such a young man. That Louise 
Phillips, or whatever her name was, can consider her- 
self very much honored, too, that Kit visited her 
cell.” 

“ Why, mother,” Vieve laughed, “ Louis-Philippe 
was a man ; a king, a prince, or something.” 

“ I don’t care,” Mrs. Silburn went on, “ Kit’s just 
as good as any of them. Don’t bother, now, till 
I finish the letter. What do I care for their kings 
or cardinals when I have a letter from Kit ? 

“ ‘ The cardinal gave me a letter to the Bishop of 
New Zealand,’ she continued to read from the letter, 


26 o 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


‘ and it may be of service to us there. But I hope you 
have heard from the consul before this. I almost 
wish I had asked you to send me a cable despatch 
telling me when you got a letter and what it said. 
But cabling is so expensive — about forty cents a 
word to Marseilles — that I shall have to wait in 
patience till I get home. That will be in about 
three weeks after you get this letter, I think ; and 
I will be out to see you just as soon as I get my 
cargo disposed of.’ 

“ I do hope we will hear from that consul before 
Kit gets back,” Mrs. Silburn said, after finishing the 
letter ; and for the twentieth time she figured out, 
as well as she could, how long it ought to take a 
letter to go from London to New Zealand, and how 
long for the reply to come to America. 

“Well,” she continued, “ Kit will find things very 
much improved here when he comes home. I never 
saw the old place look so well. If only he could 
stay here longer to enjoy it ! He works and works 
to keep a comfortable home for us, and then never 
can stay in it more than a few days at a time. But 
you must be off to school, Vieve ; and don’t forget 
to put on your overshoes, the streets are so muddy. 
I don’t know how many times I have told you to 
go and buy a new pair, but you go on wearing those 
old things, full of holes. You’ll catch your death of 
cold.” 

“ I don’t need new ones, mother,” Yieve replied. 
“ They don’t grow on the trees, you know, and all 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 26 1 

these things cost money. I’m not going to be spend- 
ing all of Kit’s money for my clothes.” 

“You foolish child, don’t you know that he always 
likes to buy things for you ? He’d rather get new 
clothes for you than for himself.” 

“ I know it, mother,” Vieve answered. “ He 
slipped some money into my hand last time he 
was home, you know, and told me to buy something 
for myself. But I’m not going to do it ; I’d rather 
save it ; you know what for.” 

“ You don’t want your father to come home and 
find that you’ve died of diphtheria, do you?” Mrs. 
Silburn asked. “Well, you must have your own 
way about it, I suppose. Stop at the butcher’s when 
you come home at noon, Yieve, and get a slice of 
ham — not a very thick slice. There are two or 
three eggs left, and that will do for our dinner.” 

It was as well that Kit could not see the pinching 
little ways at home, or he would have worried over 
it. It was something new for the Silburn family to 
live in this way, for Kit’s father had always made 
good pay, and insisted upon the wife and children 
having plenty of everything. But when he disap- 
peared there came a change, and there were grave 
doubts for a time whether Mrs. Silburn could make 
both ends meet, even with the most rigid economy. 
Then Kit began to earn a little ; but although nearly 
every cent of his went to his mother, she was deter- 
mined that every cent of his little savings should be 
set aside for his future use. It was only when there 


262 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


seemed a slight possibility of her husband’s being 
alive that she consented to use some of his money 
to repair and paint the house and pay the last of 
the indebtedness upon it. Her own small income 
barely sufficed to buy the plainest food. There was 
always, now, some of Kit’s money in the house ; but 
of their own, as they called it, money that they were 
willing to spend, they were often reduced to two or 
three dollars. 

Not long after the receipt of Kit’s letter, Vieve 
once more waved a white envelope as she descended 
the hill from the post-office, and this proved to be 
the long-expected answer from the consul in New 
Zealand. Mrs. Silburn turned it over and over many 
times, and examined the address and the postmarks 
and the strange stamp on the corner, before she 
could raise courage to open it. It was addressed to 
“ Christopher Silburn, Esq.,” as it was in answer to 
his letter ; and her agitation was so great that she 
was half inclined to make this a pretext for letting 
it stand unopened until Kit returned. 

“ Why, mother,” Yieve urged, “ you know that 
was all arranged. He said the answer would be 
addressed to him, but that we should open it just 
the same. He would think we took no interest in 
it if we didn’t open it.” 

“ No, Kit couldn’t think that ! ” Mrs. Silburn de- 
clared ; “ he knows us too well for that.” 

With trembling hand she cut off the end of the 
envelope with her scissors ; but that was as far as 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 


263 


she could go. That letter was destined, probably, 
either to overwhelm them with joy or fill them with 
grief ; and she could not bring herself to look at it. 

“ Here, you read it,” she said, handing it, still in 
its envelope, to Vieve. “ My hands shake so I can 
hardly hold it.” 

Vieve quickly took out the letter and unfolded it. 

U. S. Consulate, Wellington, N. Z. [she read]. 
Christopher Silburn, Esq., Huntington, Conn. 

Dear Sir : — Your letter in regard to the supposed American 
sailor in the hospital in this place was duly received, and I 
have made such investigations as the data you supplied made 
possible. I also secured the services of a physician to com- 
pare the unfortunate man with your description, thinking that 
his larger experience in such matters would give his opinion 
greater value than my own. 

But I regret that with all these inquiries my answer must 
still leave you in doubt whether this man is your father or not. 
We imagine that there is a slight scar upon the left temple, 
but it is so indistinct, if there really is one, that we think it 
hardly corresponds with the one you describe. Still we are 
not prepared to say definitely that it does not. 

This man’s height is about five feet nine and a half inches, and 
you say your father was 5, lOJ. But he stoops so much that it 
is difficult to get his height correctly, and he may in better days 
have been 5, 10 J. We are not prepared to either say that his 
eyes are brown ; they are a sort of brownish gray ; and his 
weight is about 140 pounds, though it was only 127 when he 
was received in the hospital. 

The teeth almost answer the description you give, being per- 
fect except that one incisor on the left side is partly broken 
off. That is an accident, however, that might have happened 
since you last saw him. 


264 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


O11 the whole, as I said before, I am unable from your de- 
scription to decide whether this man is your father or not. I 
have mentioned to him all the names and incidents given in 
your letter, without the least result. He improves 111 physical 
health daily, but there is no corresponding improvement in his 
mental condition. His memory seems entirely dormant. 

I had him photographed some time ago, but before the prints 
were made the negative was destroyed in a fire that burned a 
large share of the business portion of this city ; and as soon as 
the photographers are able to resume business I will have a 
new negative made and send you a photograph. 

I suggest that you send me as many further particulars as 
you can ; and meanwhile you may rest assured that this unfort- 
unate man, whether he prove to be your father or not, is com- 
fortably situated and receiving all necessary attention. 

Yours very truly, 

Hy. W. W. Wilkins, 
Vice-Consul of the U. S., Wellington, N. Z. 

“ Well, if that ain’t a disappointing letter! ” Mrs. 
Silburn exclaimed, when Vieve had finished reading. 
“ I should think a man right there on the spot could 
tell something about it. Won’t poor Kit be disap- 
pointed when he comes home, after all these weeks 
of waiting ! ” 

“ And still he has taken a great deal of pains about 
it,” Yieve suggested ; “ even to getting a doctor, and 
having a photograph taken. We can’t blame him 
because he is not able to say yes or no to a certainty. 
He knows how awkward it would be if he should say 
4 Yes, this is the man,’ and then after we got him 
home he should prove to be another man entirely. 
I am glad he is so careful about it, at any rate. And 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 265 

it seems to me there is a great deal in the letter 
that is encouraging. Let’s read it over again, and 
pick out the good points.” 

“ But you will be late for school, Vieve,” her 
mother objected. 

“ School ! ” Vieve cried ; “ if I hurry, I may learn 
that Rio Janeiro is on the east coast of South 
America ; and I don’t care a fig if it’s on the west 
coast of Asia, when there may be news about 
father.” 

Mrs. Silburn looked up in surprise at hearing Vieve 
speak in this way, for school was a pleasure to her, 
not a labor. She saw that the light-hearted girl was 
in a great state of excitement, though she tried hard 
to suppress it, and the look was the last straw that 
brought on the storm. 

“ Oh, mamma ! ” she sobbed, with one arm across 
her eyes. “ I believe that man — that man — in New 
Zealand — is my father ! ” 

With another burst of tears she threw her arms 
around her mother’s neck and sobbed till the chair 
shook. And as such things are always contagious, 
Mrs. Silburn was soon crying too ; and if tears are a 
relief, they must have felt much better, for it was ten 
or fifteen minutes before they were able to look at 
the letter again. 

“ Suppose it is your father,” Mrs. Silburn said at 
length, in a mildly chiding tone ; “ that’s nothing 
to cry about, is it ? This unsatisfactory letter only 
makes another delay, that’s all. Kit will know what 


266 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


to do when he comes. He always knows. What is 
it the man says about your father’s teeth ? ” 

“ Well, he don’t say they’re father’s teeth,” she 
answered, trying to laugh off the remnants of her 
tears. “ But he says that that man’s teeth — let me 
see what he does say — ” and she turned to the let- 
ter again. 

“ ‘ The teeth almost answer the description you 
give,’ ” she read, “ ‘ being perfect except that one in- 
cisor — ’ what’s an incisor ? oh, yes, I know ; ‘ that 
one incisor on the left side is partly broken off.’ ” 

“ Now isn’t that a good point?” she asked. 
“ There ain’t many people have teeth like father’s, 
I tell you. And it’s nothing that one of them should 
be broken. I guess if we went through such a ship- 
wreck we’d have more broken than one tooth. It’s 
easy to see how a mast, or a keel, or a — a — a 
breakwater or something might have struck him 
while he was in the water. 

“Then there’s that scar,” she went on. “ Let me 
see — ” and she found that part of the letter again. 
“ ‘ We imagine that there is a slight scar upon the left 
temple,’ ” she read. “ Now why should they imagine it 
if it wasn’t there ? You don’t imagine a scar ; you 
see it. Oh, we couldn’t ask for anything better than 
that.” 

There was no school for Yieve that morning ; she 
was too much excited over the letter. But after it 
had been read again and well studied she drew her 
father’s armchair to his favorite place by the fireside, 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 


267 


got out his slippers and stood them in order in front 
of the chair, just ready to be stepped into, and laid in 
the chair his pocket knife, that had been one of their 
treasures ever since Kit bought it home from London. 
Then she called in Turk and made him sit down beside 
the chair. 

“ There!” she said; “ there’s a beginning. We 
have the chair, the slippers, the knife, and Turk 
waiting to be petted. And in New Zealand we have 
got as far as father’s beautiful teeth and the scar on 
the temple. Before long we’ll have a whole father 
sitting here with us, or I’m very much mistaken. I 
don’t feel so much as if he was missing now. We 
know where he is (at least I think we do), and we 
have only to get him home.” 

u Ah, you are very hopeful, Vieve,” her mother 
sighed. “ I only wish I felt as sure of it as you do.” 

It was only two or three mornings after the receipt 
of the consul’s letter that Vieve once more waved an 
envelope as she hurried down the post-office hill. 

“ It’s another from Kit, mother,” she cried, as she 
burst into the room ; “ and it was registered and I 
had to sign a receipt for it, so there must be some- 
thing important in it.” 

There was no hesitation ever about opening Kit’s 
letters ; they were always so hopeful and cheery. 

“ We are going to get our cargo in a little sooner 
than we expected,” he wrote, “ and in about two 
weeks or two and a half after you receive this you 
may hear of our arrival in New York. 


268 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


u I intended to send yon the cardinal’s letter last 
time I wrote, but I was interrupted and had to mail 
it in a hurry, so I waited to send it in this. And I 
will register this letter to guard against it’s being 
lost in the mails, as a note from so powerful a person 
might be of great use to us in New Zealand, and I 
must not lose it. It is written in Latin, as you will 
see ; and I am sorry to say that not one of us on the 
ship knows enough about Latin to read it. But 
maybe you can get our minister in Huntington or 
Vieve’s teacher to translate it for you. I should like 
to know myself what is in it. I shall not be very 
long, I tell you, about learning some languages be- 
sides English. I did not know how much use they 
could be to a man till I came to travel. I am pick- 
ing up a little French in dealing with these French 
people, but have not had much time for it — for you 
must not think I have had nothing to do in Marseilles 
but look at the sights. 1 heard a funny little story 
the other day about an Englishman who was learn- 
ing French. You know the 6 sea ’ in French is mer , 
pronounced mare , and ‘horse’ is cheval. ‘Well,’ 
said he, after taking a few lessons, I never can learn 
such a foolish language as this, where the sea is a 
mare and a horse is a shovel.’ ” 

“ Did you ever see such a boy ! ” Mrs. Silburn ex- 
claimed, handling Kit’s letter as if it were more 
precious than gold. “ He always finds something 
funny wherever he goes.” 

But Yieve was very much interested in the car- 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 269 

dinal’s note, and the little scarlet emblem in the 
corner. 

“ I might take it to school and ask the teacher to 
translate it,” she said ; “ but I think Mr. Wright would 
be more interested in it. He always takes such an 
interest in Kit ; and then although he is a minister, 
maybe he has never seen a letter from a cardinal.” 

That same afternoon she took the letter to Mr. 
Wright, the clergyman who preached in the church 
across the road, and he readily consented to translate 
it. 

“That is, if I can,” he added, smiling. “ It is one 
good thing about the Catholics that they teach their 
young men Latin much more thoroughly than we 
learn it in our schools. The priests cannot only 
read and write it, but they can always converse in it 
fluently. But I think I can translate this for you; 
at any rate, I will write it out for you in English, for 
you probably could not remember it all.” 

He read it over first carefully, and then wrote the 
following translation : — 

Most Beverend and Well Beloved Brother : This will 
be presented to you by Mr. Christopher Silburn, a young 
American in whom I take an interest. 

His father has been shipwrecked and has disappeared, and 
it is hoped that a sailor now in one of your New Zealand 
hospitals may prove to be the missing man. 

I bespeak for my young friend your good offices in what- 
ever manner may be fitting. 

Accept, brother, the assurance of my continued love and 
esteem. Galotti. 


270 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Galotti — Galotti,” Mr. Wright said, musingly, 
as he copied the signature ; “ why, there is a cele- 
brated cardinal of that name. This can hardly be 
from Cardinal Galotti, I suppose?” 

“ Yes, sir,” Yieve answered, swelling a little with 
pride in her brother ; “ that is the man. He is one 
of Kit’s friends in Marseilles.” 

Such an astonishing statement had to be explained ; 
and in answer to her pastor’s questions she repeated 
the story of their meeting in the strange church as 
Kit had told it in his letter. 

“ I am remarkably glad to hear it,” Mr. Wright 
said, when she finished. “ Kit is a good boy, and 
sure to make good friends wherever he goes. But 
I imagine you have no idea what a powerful friend 
he has made this time. The cardinals hold the very 
highest position in the Catholic Church, next to the 
Pope himself. Such a letter as this from a cardinal 
to a bishop is almost equal to a royal command, and 
may be of the greatest use to you. Wait a minute ; 
I think I can tell you something about Cardinal 
Galotti.” 

He turned to a bookcase and took down a volume, 
and in a few minutes continued : — 

“ Yes, Galotti is one of the most eminent of the 
cardinals, and may eventually be the Pope himself. 
All the cardinals are called ecclesiastical princes, you 
know ; but Galotti is a temporal prince as well, being 
a prince of Italy. No wonder he seemed so much at 
ease in the little throne they arranged for him in that 


NEWS FROM NEW ZEALAND. 


27 


curious church. I don’t believe in such things my- 
self; but I am truly glad that Kit has made so 
powerful a friend.” 

Whether Vieve had anything to say to the girls at 
school about “ Kit’s friend the cardinal,” would be 
hard to tell ; but in a little over two weeks more she 
ran down the post-office hill so fast one morning that 
her mother knew she had some news, though there 
was no letter in her hand. 

What she had was a little slip that one of the 
neighbors she met in the office had torn out of his 
New York newspaper for her. It was only one line 
of fine type, under the heading “ Arrived Yesterday”: 

“ North Cape , Griffith, from Marseilles.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


KIT LEAVES THE “ NORTH CArE.” 

HOUGH the voyage to and from Marseilles had 



-L been a pleasant one, and the business had been 
transacted in a way that he knew must be satis- 
factory to his employers, Kit was remarkably glad 
when the North Cape was inside of Sandy Hook 
again. It was time, more than time, for an answer 
to his letter to New Zealand ; and although at his 
last news from home no answer had arrived, he felt 
sure that he must find one when he reached Hun- 
tington. 

“ I shall be busy for five or six days getting out 
my cargo,” he wrote home when his first rush on 
arrival was over ; “ but you can expect to see me by 
the beginning of next week. I have so many things 
to tell you ; and I hope you will have news for me 
from Wellington.” 

He was to have more things to tell them when he 
got to Huntington than he then had any idea of ; 
but he sent some messages and packages home by 
Harry Leonard, as before, and worked away at his 
cargo till the greater part of it was in the warehouse. 


KIT LEAVES THE “NORTH CAPE. 


273 


He had eight hundred boxes of soap among his 
other cases, for Marseilles is a great point for the 
manufacture of soaps ; “ and it’s a pity they send so 
much of it away,” he often said to himself, “ when 
they’re in such need of it over there.” But his soap 
needed particular attention ; and he had to make 
several trips to his employers’ office to get directions 
concerning it. On his return from one of these trips 
he went into the cabin and found that there was a 
visitor in the Captain’s room. 

“ Come in, Silburn,” the Captain called through 
the open door. “ Here’s a friend of yours come to 
see you. ” 

Kit went in, wondering whether his mother could 
have received important news and hastened to the 
city to tell him of it ; but his hand was instantly 
seized by the rotund purser Clark, of the Trinidad , 
as fat and bluntly good-natured and short-breathed 
as ever. 

“ Glad to see you again, Silburn,” the purser 
puffed. “ It’s not so long since we cooled ourselves 
with ice cream in the ice-house down in Barbadoes ; 
but I hear you’ve been seeing a good deal of the 
world since then.” 

* “Oh, a few corners of it,” Kit answered. “It’s 
hard to find a better part of it than our own country, 
though.” 

“You’re right there ! ” Mr. Clark acquiesced, bring- 
ing his hand down on his fat knee with a bang. 
“ You’re just right there, young man. But it’s a 


274 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


good plan to see how the other fellows live, to make 
us appreciate our own advantages. I’ve not been 
seeing much of it lately, for my part; just going up 
and down, up and down, among those black rascals 
in the West Indies. I’ve had a great deal too much 
work to do ; it’s wearing me down to skin and bone.” 

Kit and the Captain were inclined to laugh at 
this, considering the purser’s hearty appearance ; 
but his face was as solemn as a judge’s. 

“ The work seems to agree with you pretty well, 
sir,” Kit suggested. 

“ No, it don’t ! ” the purser declared, giving his 
knee another sounding slap. “ That’s a mistake ; work 
don’t agree with anybody, in spite of all the twaddle 
about it. I don’t believe in work. My theory is 
that nobody should have to work at all. Every man 
should have an income of at least five thousand dol- 
lars a year, and live on his money. The trouble is 
things are not arranged right, and some of us get 
left. No, work is all humbug.” 

It was impossible to tell from the purser’s round 
face whether he was joking or not. He certainly was 
a hard worker himself. 

“ The only concession I will make,” he went on, 
“ is, that being compelled to work at all, it is better 
to do it well. I believe you go on that theory too, 
Silburn ; that’s the reason I’ve come to see you. 
Although, as I say, I don’t believe in work, still 
when it has to be done I like to see it done well. 1 
believe you have been defrauded by society, like 


KIT LEAVES THE “NORTH CARET 275 

myself, of the five thousand a year that every man is 
entitled to, and have to work a little for a living ? 
And that being the case, how would you like to leave 
the North Cape and come and work for me ? ” 

“ For you, sir?” Kit exclaimed, naturally taken 
by surprise by the suddenness of the question. “ On 
the Trinidad , do you mean ? ” 

“Well, I mean for my company, of course,” Mr. 
Clark replied ; “ but with me, on the Trinidad. You 
see the situation is this. Our business has increased 
so much down * among those islands, both in pas- 
sengers and freight, that there is more work for the 
purser on the Trinidad than any one man ought to 
be asked to do. I am away behind in my work all 
the time, and that don’t do. So the company has 
consented to let me have an assistant. And as my 
assistant will be with me all the time, and I will be 
responsible for his work, it is only fair that I should 
have the privilege of selecting him. They see the 
force of that too ; and the matter being left with me, 
I said to myself, young Silburn’s the sort of man 1 
want with me, if I can get him. He attends to his 
business without any nonsense, and I’m going to 
hunt him up. 

“ So I have had a talk with the Captain here about 
you,” the purser went on ; “ and if you want to be 
my assistant purser on the Trinidad at one hundred 
dollars a month, you have only to say the word.” 

For a few moments Kit hardly knew how to reply. 
Mr. Clark had been jesting, he was sure, in talking 


2 76 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


about his dislike of work ; and he was still jesting. 
Kit thought, when he first spoke of Kit’s working for 
him. But there was no joke about such an offer as 
he had just made. That was sober earnest, and 
required an answer. 

“ Why, I should like to have one hundred dollars a 
month, sir,” he replied, “ very much indeed. And I 
should like to be with you. But on the other hand I 
should dislike to leave Captain Griffith and the old 
North Cape. And there is one thing that would 
interfere with my going into a new place just now. 
I don’t know whether I told you about my father, 
how he was shipwrecked and has been missing for a 
long time. There is a man in New Zealand, in a 
hospital, who may prove to be my father ; and if he 
should, it might be necessary for me to go over there 
to bring him home.” 

“ Yes, Captain Griffith has told me all about that,” 
Mr. Clark answered, “ and that need not be any 
objection. It is quite right that you should do every- 
thing possible for your father. But it is not such a 
long voyage to New Zealand in these days of steam, 
and I could put some one in your place while you 
were gone. Besides, it takes money for such a trip, 
and you would get the money much faster as my 
assistant than you can make it as a supercargo.” 

“ Yes, sir, that is true,” Kit said ; “ I thought of 
that at once. And it is very kind in you to make 
me such a liberal offer. But can you let me have a 
little time to think of it in, Mr. Clark ? Say a week 


KIT LEAVES THE “NORTH CAPET 277 

or ten days ? I have always had a sort of horror of 
changing about from one place to another, and should 
not like to do it without consulting Captain Griffith 
and my mother.” 

u Take a week and welcome to think it over in, my 
lad,” the purser answered. “ I can’t say more than a 
week, because I must have some one before I start on 
the next voyage. But you can do a heap of thinking 
in a week, if you set about it. And I hope you will 
make up your mind to go with me. I think it will 
be to your advantage and mine too.” 

After the purser was gone Kit had to look after 
his soap-boxes ; but as soon as they were attended to 
he returned to the cabin and had a serious talk with 
Captain Griffith. 

“ I don’t like the idea of your leaving us, Sil- 
burn,” the Captain said ; “ don’t like it at all. But it 
would be selfish in me to stand in the way of your 
bettering yourself. The Quebec company is a good 
company, the Trinidad is a fine ship, and Mr. Clark 
is a good man to be with. I have known him slightly 
for a long time. To be sure, he has some odd ways, 
but then most of us have. He is always talking 
about not believing in work, yet he works as hard as 
any man I know. 

u And the one hundred dollars a month is a great 
object,” he continued. “ It is really large pay, con- 
sidering that you would live on the ship and would 
have hardly any expenses. You would have to wear 
the company’s uniform, of course, and keep well 


278 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


dressed on account of the passengers ; but that does 
not amount to much. And you would likely become 
one of their pursers in time, if you gave satisfaction. 
Much as I should dislike to lose you, it is only fair 
for me to say that I think it is a very fine offer. I 
don’t see how you can do anything but accept it.” 

To add to the unsettled state of Kit’s mind, the 
next day brought him a letter from Vieve saying that 
they had heard from the consul at Wellington. But 
she did not say whether the man in the hospital had 
proved to be their father or not. This he looked 
upon as a bad sign, for if there had been good news, 
she would have been in a hurry to tell it. So with 
this matter to be discussed, and his Marseilles experi- 
ences to be related, and his new offer to be considered 
and decided upon, he felt as if a week at home would 
hardly be half long enough. 

“ I never had any regret at going ashore before, 
Captain,” he said, as he shook the Captain’s hand in 
bidding him good-by. “ But this time it seems 
almost like leaving home. It has been so pleasant on 
the North Cape , and you have always been so kind, 
I should feel strange to belong anywhere else. If I 
accept Mr. Clark’s offer, I’ll not belong on the old 
ship any longer, and it makes me feel bad in ad- 
vance.” 

“ I don’t like to think of your going, Kit,” the 
Captain answered, returning to the first name as a 
mark of affection ; u but the manner of your going 
makes a great difference, you know. If you were 


KIT LEAVES THE “ NORTH CAPET 279 

going under compulsion, I should feel downright bad 
about it. Going to something better is a different 
matter entirely. I suppose when a United States 
senator is elected President he doesn’t have any 
great regrets about leaving his old seat in the Senate 
Chamber. And it is the same thing with you, in a 
smaller way. But we know each other, Kit, and 
though you may leave the ship, we will still be 
friends. Anyhow, when you are in need of a friend 
you need not go further than the cabin of the North 
Caper 

There was so much to be done at home that Kit 
laid out a programme on his way to Bridgeport. 
The letter from New Zealand he thought the most 
important matter, and that should be considered 
first. Then the offer from Mr. Clark. He had 
pretty much made up his mind that that ought to 
be accepted ; but if his mother opposed it he was 
ready to give it up. Then after all the business was 
done he could tell about his second voyage to Europe. 
This time he caught the stage to Huntington, and 
so saved himself a long walk. 

“ Why, you folks have grown so grand here I’m 
almost afraid to go in,” he laughed, looking up at 
the freshly painted house as his mother and Vieve 
ran out to the gate to meet him. 

“ Oh, I’m glad you think so ! ” Vieve answered, 
taking possession of the side opposite her mother. 
“ I thought maybe we would seem too poor and 
common for you, since you’ve taken to travelling 


28 o 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


about with cardinals. But I know more about your 
cardinal now than you do, Mr. Supercargo, for Mr. 
Wright has translated his letter for me, and told me 
all about him.” 

They were all too full of the New Zealand letter 
to let that stand long; and before Kit had been 
in the house many minutes he asked for it. When 
they gave it to him he read it carefully, then read it 
again, and thought over it for a few minutes with- 
out speaking. 

“Well, it is not as bad as I feared,” he said, at 
length. “ When Yieve wrote that you had received 
the letter, without saying what was in it, I thought 
there must be such bad news that you did not want 
to tell me. But this is only more delay. What 
little news there is in it is good news, for they seem 
to have found the scar, though they are not sure 
about it, and the teeth correspond with father’s. It 
looks more hopeful than ever, only we must wait till 
we can hear again. And the photograph ought to 
settle the question, when that comes. I will write 
to the consul again, and give him all the particulars 
we can all think of.” 

“ And that letter from the cardinal,” Mrs. Silburn 
suggested. “It seems he is a very great man, and 
the letter is to the Bishop of New Zealand — a 
Catholic of course, but I wouldn’t mind what he was 
if he could help us. This is a nice time of life for 
a God-fearing Protestant woman to begin talking 
about cardinals and bishops ; but wouldn’t it be 


KIT LEAVES THE " NORTH CAPE: 


28l 


as well to send that letter on and ask the bishop 
to help us ? ” 

Kit asked to see the translation before he gave 
any opinion about it, for he did not yet know what 
was in the letter. 

“ I am inclined to think it would be better to save 
this for another purpose,” he said, after he had read 
it. “ I have never said so before, but I have often 
thought, and the same thing must have occurred to 
you, that I may have to go on to New Zealand. It 
is a long journey, but any of us would go further 
than that, further than the end of the world, to 
have father with us again. If I should go there, 
this letter would be a very valuable thing to take 
with me, and I think it ought to be kept for that. 
The only thing is to have some reasonable certainty 
that the man in the hospital is really father. With 
any good evidence of that, even very slight evidence, 
I should go over there at once.” 

“ Yes,” Mrs. Silburn answered, with tears in her 
eyes ; “ I have often thought of that, Kit. And I 
knew of course that you would think of it. If we 
can get any reasonable evidence that that may be 
your father, I think you ought to go. It will take 
all the money we can borrow on this little place, and 
leave us badly in debt again, but we must not stop 
for that. All the money in the world is nothing 
compared with having your father back again.” 

“ Oh, we are not as badly off as all that ! ” Kit 
said. Never in his life before had he felt so proud of 


282 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


being able to earn money. “ Yon don’t know how 
easily we sea-faring fellows can get about the world. 
I think maybe I can get a job for one round voyage 
on some vessel bound for Australia or New Zealand, 
even if I have to work only for my passage. Then 
the only expense will be paying father’s fare home. 
Captain Griffith would help me to get such a job, I 
know ; and I have another friend now who would 
help me to it, I am sure. You see I have some more 
news for you, though I didn’t intend to tell you till 
to-morrow.” 

Then he told of his offer of one hundred dollars a 
month from the Quebec Steamship Company, and 
how he had consulted Captain Griffith, and how the 
Captain had advised him to accept it ; and explained 
that he thought very favorably of it himself, but 
waited to hear what his mother thought. 

“ A hundred dollars a month ! ” Vieve cried, throw- 
ing her arms about her brother’s neck and nearly 
choking him. “You? Just for writing out those 
paper things on a ship ? That’s twelve hundred dol- 
lars a year! why, Mr. Wright don’t get more than a 
thousand, I’m sure, and the parsonage ; but then 
you’ll have a sort of parsonage too — at least the 
ship to live in.” 

“Ah! but Mr. Wright don’t travel about with 
cardinals ! ” Kit laughed. “ That makes all the dif- 
ference in the world. What do you think of it, 
mother? It is an important matter, and you are 
the one to decide it.” 


KIT LEAVES THE “ NORTH CAPET 283 

“ No, we have got beyond that, Kit,” Mrs. Silhurn 
answered, as well as her demonstrations of pleasure 
would allow. “ Yon are the one to decide questions 
for us, not we for you. As far as I can see I should 
think you would not hesitate at all about it. But 
you know all the circumstances better than I do. 
You must decide for yourself.” 

“ Then it is already decided, mother,” he said. 
“ I had made up my mind to accept it, provided you 
did not object. You don’t know how much I love 
Captain Griffith and the North Caioe. The Captain is 
one man in a thousand ; he has been like a father to 
me. But one hundred dollars a month is a splendid 
offer, and the Captain himself advises me to take it.” 

There was a little feast in the Silburn cottage that 
evening to celebrate Kit’s improved prospects. That 
was what it meant when he beckoned Vieve into the 
hall and slipped some money into her hand, and told 
her, after making her purchases, to go to Harry Leon- 
ard’s and invite him to come over. Not very much 
of a feast ; if she had had a purseful of gold to spend 
she could not have bought the materials for a ban- 
quet in the little shops of Huntington, at such short 
notice ; but what she found in her hurried trip 
answered every purpose. 

“ Now don’t you be making eyes at Harry Leonard, 
miss ! ” Kit warned her, when she returned with the 
provisions, and began by unloading a fat chicken and 
some bunches of Malaga grapes. “ I know you used 
to be very fond of him.” 


284 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ At Harry Leonard ! ” Vieve retorted, assuming 
her grandest air. “ Humph ! [ guess when I have a 
beau (which I won’t have), he’ll be nothing short of 
a cardinal.” 

“ Then you’ll die an old maid,” Kit laughed ; 
“ don’t you know that cardinals are Catholic priests, 
and never marry?” 

They were a merry party at supper, though Harry 
was disconsolate for a while at hearing that Kit was 
going to leave the North Cape. 

“ Why, I don’t know what we’ll do without him 
on board, Mrs. Silburn ! ” he exclaimed. “ It will be 
like a different ship. It will make a great change 
for me, I tell you. No more good times on shore 
now for the cabin boy, I suppose. The Captain 
thinks I’m too young and giddy to go ashore alone 
in strange ports, though I’m not ; but he was always 
satisfied when I was with Kit.” 

The whole story of their visit to Notre-Dame-de-la- 
Garde had to be told while they were eating, and 
their meeting with the mysterious stranger; and 
Harry kept them in roars of laughter when he de- 
scribed how the old and young priests always entered 
the room “ on their marrow bones,” as he called it. 
Somewhere in Marseilles he had heard the French 
pronunciation of Vieve’s name, and he added to the 
merriment by insisting upon giving it the French 
twang whenever he addressed her : “ Miss Zhou -vay- 
ve ; Miss Zhou-yay-ve.” 

The spectre at the feast did not show itself till all 


KIT LEAVES THE “NORTH CAPET 285 

was over and Harry had gone home, for Kit guarded 
it carefully as long as he could. But at last he had 
to let it out. 

“ My change of work will cut short my visit home,” 
he announced. “ I can’t go off suddenly and leave 
my employers in the lurch, you know. They must 
have time to get some one else in my place ; and if 
they ask it, I may have to wait another voyage before 
going on the Trinidad . But if they let me off, I will 
still have a great deal to do. My accounts must all 
be straightened out, and I will have some business 
with the tailors. I will have to wear the company’s 
uniform on the Trinidad , you know.” 

“ Ah ! that’s it ! ” Vieve declared, pretending to be 
hurt at Kit’s leaving them sooner than he expected, 
though it was not all pretence. “ He wants to get 
his new clothes ! Won’t he be grand, though, 
when he comes out in a new uniform with gold 
braid ! ” 

“ Yes, you know I always think so much about my 
clothes,” he answered. “ But I’ll be with you all 
day to-morrow ; and busy enough, too, writing letters. 
To-morrow I must write to that New Zealand consul 
again, and there are several more to be written. Then 
the next morning I must go back to New York. But 
then this won’t be like those long trips to Europe. 
Why, I’ll be back again in no time at all. The Trini- 
dad only runs to the island of Trinidad and back, stop- 
ping at St. Kitts, Antigua, St. Lucia, Martinique, 
Dominica, and Barbadoes. She makes the round 


286 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


trip in twenty-eight days. Being a mail and pas- 
senger boat, you know, she has to make time.” 

It was hard work for Kit to go back to the North 
Cape to say good-by, after his employers had gener- 
ously released him at once, with many expressions of 
satisfaction and good will. It was on her that he had 
changed from a waif on the docks to a cabin boy, and 
from cabin boy to supercargo. In her cabin he had 
made his start in life, and every man on board was 
his friend. He could not bid good-by to Captain 
Griffith in the cabin and then go away. The crew 
crowded around him to wish him happiness and pros- 
perity. Men who had never shown any particular 
interest in him before, seemed grieved to have him 
go. He had to shake hands with Mr. Mason and Mr. 
Han way, with Tom Haines and his chief, with the 
steward, even with Chock Cheevers. 

In four days more, when in all the glory of bright 
new uniform he stood on the deck of a faster and 
handsomer ship, watching once more the hoisting of 
the flags as she sped by the Sandy Hook signal sta- 
tion, it gave him a start when he saw that the upper- 
most flag did not bear the familiar number of the 
North Cape. 

“ The Trinidad ,” the signals said this time ; “ for 
Trinidad and intermediate ports.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 

HE difference between a modern mail and pas- 



-L senger steamer and a vessel built solely for 
carrying freight is so great that Kit could hardly 
help liking his new surroundings, much as he re- 
gretted leaving his old friend the North Cape. On 
the Trinidad there was a beautiful little office for 
the purser, in which Mr. Clark had one desk and his 
assistant another; and although the work was ten 
times as great as on the freighter, the facilities 
for doing it were ten times better. It was vastly 
more labor to make up the manifest where there 
were thousands of miscellaneous packages for differ- 
ent consignees at different ports ; but it had to be 
written only once, for there was the copying-press 
ready to make as many duplicates as might be 
needed. Kit had never seen so many facilities before 
for doing good and rapid work. 

And there was not more change in the office work 
than there was in everything else. No more “sea 
clothes ” to be worn now, with forty or fifty passen- 
gers in the cabin, and the necessity of going into the 


288 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


grand saloon for every meal. It was a finer saloon 
than Kit had seen anywhere before, fitted up in 
marbles and hard woods and shining glass ; and 
certainly the meals were far beyond anything he 
had dreamed of. Mr. Clark’s seat was at the head 
of one of the tables, and Kit’s at the foot ; and he 
soon found that being agreeable to the passengers 
is an important part of the purser’s work on a large 
steamer. That part of the work Mr. Clark was 
quite willing to do himself, leaving his assistant to 
attend to the clerical- business ; and Kit was more 
than willing to have it so, for he did not feel quite 
at home yet with so many passengers on board ship. 

The voyage was no novelty to him, as he had been 
over precisely the same route before as far as Bar- 
badoes. But this trip bade fair to give him a much 
better knowledge of the intermediate islands, for the 
purser told him that he was to do all the “ shore 
work.” 

“ There’s no use of my roasting myself on those 
islands,” Mr. Clark said, “ when I have a young 
fellow to do it for me. You are accustomed to that 
kind of work ; you will find this almost the same 
as the work you have been doing. You must never 
let a package get away from you till somebody else 
becomes responsible for it and you have his receipt 
for it. These fellows down here would steal the tan 
off your face, if they didn’t have so much of their 
own. I have read in books that there’s a great deal 
of honesty in the world, but somehow it doesn’t seem 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 289 

to thrive around the seaports. Maybe you had a 
little experience of that in Marseilles.” 

“ I rather think I did ! ” Kit laughed. “ But I 
have learned pretty well how to hold on to my 
goods. I don’t think they’re going to rob me much 
down here.” 

One of the pleasures of the evening was to have 
Captain Fraser come into the office for a chat. In 
the long run between New York and St. Kitts, the 
first island, with fair weather and no land for hun- 
dreds of miles, the Captain liad very little to do, and 
hardly an evening passed without a visit from him. 
He was a big, jolly, hearty Nova Scotian, in manner 
very much like Mr. Clark, Kit thought, at least in 
his habit of saying things with a sober face that he 
neither believed himself nor expected others to be- 
lieve. The speed of the Trinidad was one of the 
things that Captain Fraser never tired of joking 
about. One evening Kit made some remark about 
the good day’s run. 

“ Oh, I have to hold her back,” the Captain an- 
swered. “ She’s a very fast ship when we let her out, 
but the owners won’t stand it. Coming up about 
three months ago we left St. Kitts a day late, and as 
we had fine weather the chief engineer kept bother- 
ing me to let him make it up. So at last I got 
tired hearing about it and told him to let her go. 
Go ! Well, sir, you never saw r anything like it. 
You’ve been in a fast train on shore and seen the 
telegraph poles fly past ? That was exactly the way 


290 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


the light-houses flew past all the way up the coast. 
W e got into port two days ahead of time ; but when 
the port captain came aboard, the first thing he said 
was : — 

“ 4 Hello, here ! what you been changing her color 
for ? Don’t you know black’s the color of this line ?’ 

“ ‘ Haven’t changed her color,’ said I. 

“ ‘ Look at her,’ said he. 

“Well, sir, I looked over the side, and bless my 
weather binnacles if the ship wasn’t a bright lead 
color. That was strange, you know, considering that 
we’d left port black. I jumped ashore and rubbed 
my hand over her, and she was smooth as — well, 
smooth as Clark’s bald head there. There wasn’t a 
particle of paint on her ; she’d come so fast it was 
all stripped off, and the water had polished her steel 
plates till they shone like a new quarter. 

“ That made her very handsome, but the owners 
didn’t like it because they had to dock her to be 
painted.” 

“ She must have made a record that voyage, sir,” 
Kit suggested. 

“ Oh, that was only the beginning of it,” the Cap- 
tain went on, with a wink at the purser. “ When 
we started out again and got down off Hatteras we 
met a Dutch bark towing the biggest sea-serpent you 
ever saw. Whether it was a sea-serpent or a whale 
they couldn’t quite make out ; but it was about 
375 feet long and 35 or 40 feet through. They’d 
had it two or three days, and they declared it bel- 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 29 1 

lowed all night long, though that part I wouldn’t 
ask anybody to believe. 

“ I suspected something the minute I saw it, so I 
went aboard the bark and said, said I : — 

“ 6 1 think that’s my property you’ve got there.’ 

“ ‘ Guess not,’ said the skipper. 

“ ‘ I guess yes,’ said I, for I was sure of it now. 
‘ If you cut into the beast somewhere abaft the main- 
mast I think you’ll find my trademark in him.’ 

“ Well, sir, they lowered a boat and sent a man to 
chop into the critter with an axe, and with the first 
blow the whole thing flummixed — just collapsed, for 
there was nothing in it but wind. But the man 
gave two or three more cuts and laid over the flap, 
and right across it, in big gold letters, was, ‘ The 
Trinidad, New York.’ It was nothing in the world 
but the paint off our ship, stripped off just like you’d 
skin an eel. We sold it to the darkies in Dominica 
afterwards for waterproof coats and galoshes ; but 
I’m not going to put her at that speed again.” 

The Captain never repeated his stories, because he 
always made them up as he went along ; and he was 
so companionable and full of fun that in a short time 
Kit felt well enough acquainted with him to give 
him an account of his father’s disappearance and tell 
him about the man in the New Zealand hospital. 
The Captain listened with great interest ; but even 
in a matter of such importance he could not quite 
resist the temptation to crack a joke. 

“ Didn’t he have a mark on his arm?” he asked. 


292 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ In all such stories that I’ve read, the missing man 
had a mark on his arm that he could be identified by. 
I’ve often thought what an advantage one-legged or 
one-armed or one-eyed men have. If one of them 
goes off missing, it’s the easiest matter in the world 
to identify him. 

“ But seriously, Silburn,” he went on, “ it does 
look a little as if that man might be your father. 
It’s nothing against it that he was picked up on an 
island in the Pacific Ocean. When a man is floating 
about on a spar, say, or an oar, or anything else that 
keeps him up, and a ship comes along, he don’t stop 
to ask whether she’s bound for China or New York. 
Any port in a storm, and a ship’s as likely to be 
going one way as another. Then the second ship 
may be lost, and there you are. If he was the kind 
of father you want to bring back, I think you can 
find out whether this is the right man or not. 
I’ve known some fathers who’d be just as well left 
at a safe distance of twelve or fifteen thousand 
miles.” 

“ Oh, mine isn’t that kind of a father, sir,” Kit 
answered, not quite knowing whether to laugh or 
not. “ We would do anything in the world to get 
him back.” 

“ Then why don’t you go out to New Zealand and 
see for yourself ? ” the Captain asked. “ You could 
identify him better than any stranger ; and you can’t 
get anything done for you as well as you can do it 
yourself.” 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 


293 


This was precisely the point that Kit was trying 
to get the Captain’s opinion upon. 

“But don’t you think, sir,” he asked, “that it is 
as well to wait till we hear something more definite 
from the consul out there, and till he sends the 
photograph? ” 

“ Yes, I think it is,” the Captain replied. “ But 
let me tell you something about consuls, young man. 
I suppose I’ve seen more of them than you have, for 
I’ve had business with them nearly all my life. 
There are some good men in the business — very 
good — who will put themselves out of their way to 
do you a service. I don’t mean to deny that. But 
in general a consul is a man who draws his salary 
for putting his heels on the mantel and smoking 
cigars. They get their appointments generally not 
because they are good men for the place, but on 
account of some trifling political service. Under 
that beautiful system we get consuls in important 
places who ought to be raising turnips out in the 
southwest corner of New Mexico. I don’t know 
anything about the consul in Wellington ; but as a 
general rule, don’t you put your trust in consuls, my 
boy. When you have important business to be done, 
go and do it yourself. It’s the only safe w T ay. If 
that was my case out in New Zealand, I’d wait a rea- 
sonable time for the photograph, and if it looked 
anything like my father, I’d be out there so quick I’d 
strip all the paint off myself.” 

“ Do you think I would have any chance of get- 


294 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

ting something to clo on a steamer going to New 
Zealand and back, sir ? ” Kit asked. “ Say as super- 
cargo, or purser, or something of that kind ? ” 

“ Not the least in the world ! ” the Captain an- 
swered emphatically ; “ not from New York. All 
of our American trade with New Zealand you might 
put in your vest pocket, and you wouldn’t find a 
steamer going there in six months. But if you were 
to say Australia, now, that would be easy enough. 
There are plenty of steamers going from New York 
to Australia, and when you get there you are not 
far from New Zealand ; you know you could do that 
part of the journey on your own hook. Indeed, I 
know two or three masters myself engaged in that 
trade ; and if you make up your mind to go, you let 
me know and I’ll help you along. Clark here tells 
me he’s got the best young assistant in the country, 
though I suppose lie’s mistaken about that, for all 
the good pursers die very young. But this is a case 
that would be easy to manage, because your father 
was a sea-faring man and you’re a sea-faring man 
yourself going after him, and most any good-hearted 
master would lend a hand. It’s all in the family, 
you know ; we help one another.” 

This conversation seemed to Kit to make things 
look a little brighter. If he could get to New Zea- 
land and back without the great expense of paying 
his passage, half the difficulties would be removed 
— yes, nine-tenths of them. 

“ What are you doing so much with that sailor 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 295 

I see you talking to on deck when you’re off duty, 
Silburn ? ” Mr. Clark asked him one day before the 
first land was sighted. “ You and he are not hatch- 
ing a plot to wreck the ship, are you ? ” 

“ No, sir,” Kit laughed ; “ though we say some 
very mysterious things. The last thing I said to 
him yesterday was ‘ my aunt has two apples, and my 
uncle has two pears.’ It does sound a little like a 
plot, doesn’t it ? But the fact is the man is a French- 
man, Mr. Clark, and I have employed him to teach 
me a little French in my spare moments. I made 
up my mind in Marseilles that a sea-going man 
ought to know some languages beside his own, so 
I bought two primary French books in New York ; 
and this man, who is quite an intelligent fellow, 
teaches me the pronunciation. It may come of use 
in Martinique when I am able to speak a little, for I 
have heard you say they speak nothing but French 
there.” 

“It’s a capital idea,” the purser agreed. “I’ve 
always had hard sailing in Martinique because I 
couldn’t jabber their miserable language. I’m glad 
you’ve taken it up. And you’ll be remarkably glad 
yourself, some day, if you stick to it.” 

Kit was not destined to use any of his newly 
acquired French in Martinique on that first outward 
voyage, however ; for when they reached the road- 
stead in front of St. Pierre, the chief city, where they 
were to land both passengers and freight, they found 
danger signals flying from the top of the light-house, 


296 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

and all the lighters and smaller boats drawn far up 
on the beach. There had been enough of a storm 
in those waters to stir up a heavy sea, and more wind 
was threatened, so the cautious Frenchmen would 
allow no boats to go out. The passengers for Mar- 
tinique could look right up the hilly streets of their 
chief city, almost into some of the windows, but 
there was no possible way for them to get ashore. 

“ It is all small freight we have for here, Mr. 
Clark. Couldn’t we land it and the passengers in 
our own boats?” Kit asked. 

“ Ah, my boy, the authorities on shore would fine 
us if we tried it while they have the danger signals 
set,” the purser answered. “ Besides, we should lose 
the insurance if anything happened to the cargo. 
There’s nothing for it but to wait till the signals 
come down.” 

Captain Fraser evidently thought differently, how- 
ever. After trying for five or six hours in the road- 
stead he gave the order to go ahead. 

“Why, we are going on ! ” Kit exclaimed. “ What 
will become of our passengers and freight for St. 
Pierre ? ” 

“ Well, they’ll have to go on to Trinidad and come 
back with us,” the purser answered. “ You know we 
touch here on the way back. That happens some- 
times, and people who live in this part of the world 
have to get used to it. If they will build their cities 
where there is no harbor, only an open roadstead, 
they must take the consequences. We can’t keep a 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 297 

mail steamer waiting for a storm that is supposed to 
be coming.” 

When they reached Barbadoes, Kit felt quite at 
home again. It was not worth while, he knew, for 
him to have any hopes of getting out to the Sea View 
plantation to see his friends the Outerbridges, for 
nearly half of all their freight was for Barbadoes, and 
in the few hours that they lay in the roadstead he 
was busy every minute, even at night. He found 
time, however, to write a hurried note to Mr. Outer- 
bridge, saying that he was now assistant purser of the 
Trinidad , that they were on their way to Port of 
Spain, and that when they returned in a few days it 
would be a great pleasure to him if any of them 
happened to be in the town. 

Leaving Barbadoes late in the evening, the Trini- 
dad steamed very slowly across toward the island of 
Trinidad, as Captain Fraser did not care to go 
through the narrow passage before daylight. 

u You’ll have to be out early in the morning if 
you want to see the ship run into the muddy water 
of the Orinoco,” Mr. Clark told Kit that evening 
while they were preparing their papers for the last 
port. “ It’s a curious sight, that you can’t see any- 
where else, that I know of. You know the numer- 
ous mouths of the river Orinoco all empty about here 
— some into the Gulf of Paria, where we are going, 
and some below it. The immense body of muddy 
water runs along shore with a rush, and makes — 
well, I’m not going to tell you what it makes. If 


298 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


you turn out by daylight you will see for your- 
self.” 

With this hint Kit was sure to be out early ; and 
he found that he was not the only watcher, for some 
of the crew who had seen the curious thing scores of 
times were out to see it again. When they were a 
short distance above the very narrow entrance to the 
Gulf of Paria, a dangerous channel that is called the 
Dragon’s Mouth, he saw ahead a distinct line drawn 
across the water — a wall of water, it looked like — 
a wall of muddy water two or three feet higher than 
the clear water of the ocean. 

“ That’s just what it is, sir,” one of the sailors told 
him when he asked a question. “ You see that big 
body of fresh muddy water runs down out of the 
Orinoco. When you see the line, that’s where the 
river water running north meets the sea water run- 
ning south. But the ocean’s the stronger, sir, and it 
backs the river water up into that ridge you see. 
Oh, yes, sir ; we’ll run through that and you’ll never 
know it.” 

So they did, the ship being too large and heavy to 
be visibly affected by the slight difference in water 
levels ; and in a few moments more they were in the 
Dragon’s Mouth, with the high rocks of Trinidad on 
one side and the equally high hills of Venezuela on 
the other, and both so close that Kit could easily 
have thrown a stone against Trinidad or against the 
coast of South America. Then in a short time they 
were through the dangerous channel and in the 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 299 

broad Gulf of Paria ; and by eleven o’clock they were 
at anchor in smooth and shallow water about a mile 
away from the wharves of the city of Port of Spain, 
the capital of Trinidad. 

Kit thought himself pretty well accustomed to the 
heat of the tropics after his experiences at Sisal and 
Barbadoes ; but he had never found anything before 
that was quite equal to the stifling heat of Port of 
Spain. 

“ We are on the line of greatest heat here,” Mr. 
Clark explained when he went into the city with 
him to introduce him to the agents. “ It is hotter 
here than right on the equator. You understand 
about the isothermal lines, I suppose ! This place is 
ten degrees north of the equator, but the ‘line of 
greatest heat,’ as they call it, runs directly through 
here.” 

For two days the assistant purser was continually 
bathed in perspiration from his necessary walks into 
the city and looking after his goods on the wharf. But 
by that time the cargo was out and his work in the 
port was practically over, for there is very little 
freight to carry from Trinidad to New York. 

“ I have to go out to La Brea this afternoon to 
see the superintendent of the pitch lake, ” Mr. Clark 
said on the third day. “ It’s a nuisance, in this 
heat, and I wish I could leave it to you. But I have 
had some dealings with him, and the company 
charged me particularly to close a contract with him 
this trip if I can. So I suppose I must go myself.” 


300 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


66 The superintendent of the pitch lake ! ” Kit ex- 
claimed. u 1 have read something about the great 
pitch lake in Trinidad; but what does it have a 
superintendent for ? ” 

“ Because' it is a very valuable piece of property,” 
the purser answered. “ It belongs to the govern- 
ment, you know, and they keep a superintendent to 
look after it and sell the pitch. It goes all over the 
world ; a great many of the streets in New York 
and other American cities are paved with it. They 
call it pitch here, but when it is boiled down and 
ready for use we call it asphalt. We are negotiating 
with the superintendent to send a freight ship down 
to carry away two or three cargoes, and it will be a 
profitable job if I can close the contract with him.” 

“ It must be a very curious sight — a lake of 
pitch,” Kit suggested. 

“ I believe it is hard enough on the surface to walk 
over,” the purser replied ; “ but I have never seen it. 
You can go along with me if you like. It is only 
twenty or thirty miles down the coast. The train 
leaves at three o’clock, and we can be back by a 
little after dark.” 

Kit was glad to avail himself of this permission, 
and at three o’clock they took the train for La Brea. 
The railway ran through a country that was given 
up largely to the cultivation of sugarcane ; and at 
the stations they passed they saw a great many men 
who were neither whites nor negroes, in a curious cos- 
tume of white stuff so arranged that it covered one 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 301 

leg to below the knee, but left the other leg almost 
bare. 

“ They are coolies,” Mr. Clark said, seeing that 
Kit was interested in these brown, slender people. 
u They bring a great many of them here from India 
to work on the plantations. They have to work so 
many years to pay for their passage, and after that 
they are free. But they’re a queer lot. When a 
man is badly treated by his master he doesn’t com- 
plain, but goes out and sticks a knife into himself, 
and they find his body lying in the cane-fields.” 

In a little over an hour the train set them down 
at La Brea, and they found the pitch works not far 
from the station, on the edge of the wonderful black 
lake. But the superintendent’s house, they learned, 
was across one corner of the lake, about half a mile 
away ; and they immediately set out for it. 

They were both a little cautious about walking 
over the pitch at first, particularly where the path 
led over breaks between the beds of pitch, and they 
had to feel their way across narrow planks for 
bridges. The moving of the pitch beneath their 
feet did not tend, either, to give them confidence. 

“ This is a very queer sort of a lake ! ” Kit de- 
clared, stopping at the edge of one of the round beds 
to examine it. “ I think I can see how it is made. 
First there is a lake of water here, with a great bed 
of molten pitch somewhere beneath. A column of 
the pitch shoots up, like a waterspout, and when it 
reaches the surface, the top of it flattens out, like an 


302 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO . 


immense mushroom, held up by the narrow column 
that reaches down dear knows how far. This water 
between the black mushrooms looks very deep and 
black ; bah ! I shouldn’t care to fall in there.” 

“ That’s about the way the thing grows,” Mr. Clark 
agreed. “ Some of the ‘ mushrooms,’ as you call 
them, are only a yard or so in diameter, and some 
are twelve or fifteen feet. Gradually enough of them 
have come up to cover the entire surface of the lake, 
which must be two or three thousand acres. What 
a desolate-looking place, isn’t it ? And they tell me 
that no matter how much is cut out, a fresh column 
of pitch shoots up and fills the hole. I shouldn’t 
care to wander around here much after dark.” 

It was not a very safe path even by daylight. In 
some places the “mushrooms” not only touched, but 
crowded and indented each other ; but in other places 
there were gaps two, three, sometimes even six feet 
wide, that had to be crossed on the planks. When 
they stood in the middle of one of the big “ mush- 
rooms,” it was firm enough ; but when they stood 
upon its edge, their w T eight bent it down until the 
water ran over its surface. 

They made the passage in safety, however, and 
Mr. Clark had a long talk with the superintendent 
while Kit remained on the lake. It was a very 
satisfactory talk, the purser said when he came out, 
for everything had been arranged and the contract 
signed. But Kit had been watching the sky for 
some time with uneasiness. Engrossed with his 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 303 

business, Mr. Clark had given no attention to the 
passing of time, and it was with some alarm that 
Kit had seen the sun set behind the mountains and 
darkness begin to gather. 

Mr. Clark was a little uneasy about it, too, when 
he saw how long he had stayed. He was not par- 
ticularly fond of walking, even on a good pave- 
ment ; and the prospect of crossing the end of the 
lake in the dusk, sometimes on narrow planks across 
the openings, sometimes on the yielding pitch beds, 
did not please him. 

“ We’ll have to hurry up, Silburn,” he called to 
Kit when he reached the edge of the lake. “You 
know there’s precious little twilight in this part of 
the world ; it’s either daylight or it’s dark. One of 
those old rattletrap cabs in Bridgetown would be 
better than walking over these tarry islands. But 
come on, youngster ! You may think I’m no walker, 
but I’ll show you ! ” 

He started out at a great pace, with Kit following. 
But Mr. Clark’s physique was not adapted to severe 
exercise. After the first hundred yards he began to 
breathe hard, and soon he stopped entirely. 

“I’ve got to — to — (hech !) to stop and get my 
(hech ! hech!) — my second wind!” he panted. 
“ Hang their old (phew ! phew !) old pitch lakes ! If 
they make — make (hech !) streets out of ’em, I wish 
they’d (phew ! phew !) make some here. It’s getting 
darker every — every minute, too ! ” 

“We started out too fast, sir,” Kit answered; “if 


304 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


we take it slower, I think we’ll get along all right. 
It’s going to be dark before we get across, anyhow, so 
we may as well take our time to it.” 

Mr. Clark was compelled to take his time to it, for 
he had no more wind for fast walking. It was not 
fairly dark yet, but “ pretty thick dusk,” as Kit 
called it, and they had to feel their way along. The 
purser remained in the lead when they set out again, 
for Kit hesitated to go ahead, for fear of going too 
fast for him. 

They were about to cross one of the widest crevices, 
and Mr. Clark was half way over on the plank, 
when Kit heard a startled cry. 

“ Silburn ! ” 

And plank and purser went down together, Mr. 
Clark disappearing beneath the black water. 

Kit saw in an instant what had happened. The 
end of the plank had slipped from the edge of the 
opposite bed of pitch. 

Mr. Clark, he knew, could not swim ; and besides 
he might come up beneath one of those horrible 
“ mushrooms,” and so almost inevitably be drowned. 
But Kit was not long in making up his mind what 
to do. He instantly threw off his coat and knelt on 
the edge of the “mushroom” he was on, with his 
head close to the water, ready to dive for his com- 
panion as soon as he could get a glimpse of him. 

He had no chance to dive, however. As soon as 
the impetus of his fall was over, the purser shot to 
the surface again like a cork ; and catching a momen- 


OVERBOARD IN THE PITCH LAKE. 


305 


tary glance at Kit’s head he grabbed at it with all 
the energy of a drowning man, and got his arm 
around the neck before Kit had time to draw back. 

As he started to go down again, which he did at 
almost the same instant, only one result was possible. 
Kit was overbalanced and dragged into the wate**, 
and they went down together into the black depths, 
both in deadly peril from drowning, and Kit with the 
additional danger of the arm wound around his throat 
like a vioe. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 

I F Kit had been less at home in the water, there is 
little doubt that they would both have found 
their long rest down among the black columns of 
pitch. But besides being a strong swimmer he was 
well versed in all the arts of managing a drowning 
companion. He knew that without his assistance the 
purser at least must drown, so he quickly brought his 
right hand around, and seizing the struggling man’s 
nose with a grip of iron, he bent the purser’s head 
back till it seemed as if his thick neck must break. 
But this had the desired effect, as Kit knew from 
experience that it would. Mr. Clark let go his hold 
to save his neck, and in an instant Kit had him 
firmly by the waist. 

This was done almost in a second ; and when they 
came to the surface again, Kit grabbed at the slippery 
edge of the “ mushroom.” Ilis hand slipped off, but 
struck against the floating plank, which he had not 
seen in the darkness; and that was better still. He 
guided one of Mr. Clark’s hands to the plank, and 
then let go his own hold. 

306 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA* 30 7 

“ Now hold fast for a minute, sir/’ he said, “ and 
we’ll be all right.” 

“ I’m g-gone, Silburn ! ” the purser gasped ; “ I 
c-can’t (ah !) swim ! ” 

“ You’ll be on shore in a moment, sir, if you hold 
tight,” Kit answered ; and he scrambled up on the 
nearest “ mushroom ” and laid one end of the plank 
upon it. But he could not risk the leap to the 
opposite shore in the darkness, so he plunged into 
the water again and swam across and soon had the 
other end of the plank in place. 

But getting Mr. Clark out was no easy matter, even 
with the plank made firm again. Kit climbed out, 
and walking the plank till he could reach the pur- 
ser’s nearest arm, he grasped it firmly and helped 
him toward the shore. 

“ Now get one knee on the plank,” he said, when he 
had him in the corner between the plank and the 
edge of the “ mushroom”; and stooping down he 
seized the knee that his companion was trying in 
vain to raise high enough, and pulled it up. 

“ Now one grand pull, and we’re all right.” Kit 
was on the pitch bed again by this time, with a firm 
hold under the purser’s arms. He pulled with all his 
strength. Mr. Clark got the other knee on the 
“ mushroom,” and in an instant more he was safe on 
land, but exhausted with his efforts, and unable to 
rise. 

Kit quickly turned the purser over on his face and 
raised his feet to let any water run out of his mouth 


308 the young supercargo. 

that he might have swallowed ; and that was no light 
undertaking with so heavy a man. Then he turned 
him over again, and finding that he was breathing 
regularly, though heavily, he began to urge him to 
rise. 

“ We must get ashore to dry our clothes,” he said. 
“ It won’t do for you to lie here in the wet.” 

“ Oh, I never can walk ashore ! ” the purser gasped ; 
and putting up his hand, he added, “ I must have 
struck my face against something down in that hole ; 
my nose is so sore.” 

•In spite of the unpleasant surroundings, it was all 
that Kit could do to keep from laughing; for he 
knew what was the matter with that nose. 

“ No, sir,” he answered; “you had me by the 
throat, and we were both drowning, and 1 had to take 
you by the nose to make you let go.” 

The purser laughed himself at this ; and thinking 
that a good sign, Kit took hold of him again and half 
dragged him to his feet. Then he ran across the 
plank to get his coat, the only dry garment they had 
between them, and with a little more urging Mr. 
Clark consented to make an effort to reach the 
station. 

It was almost totally dark now, and they had to 
feel their way along, moving very slowly. 

“ I don’t know what put it into my head to bring 
you with me to-day, Silburn,” the purser said when 
they were near enough to shore to feel safe. “ But 
it was the best thing I ever did in my life. If it 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


309 


hadn’t been for you, the catfish would be making a 
supper of me by this time in this miserable lake.” 

“ Oh, you might have taken a different route en- 
tirely, if I had not been with you, sir,” Kit answered. 
“ What we want now is a fire to dry our clothes by. 
If we have a little time at the station, we must find 
one somewhere, or build one.” 

Finding at the station that they had more than an 
hour to wait for the return train, and indoor fires 
being almost unknown in that part of the world, 
they went out to the edge of the road and built a 
little camp fire with such stray sticks as they could 
find, and piece by piece dried their outer clothing, 
much to the amazement of a crowd of coolies that 
soon gathered and stood watching them. And the 
station agent, learning what had happened, brought 
them each a steaming cup of coffee. 

By the time they reached the ship and put on dry 
clothes Mr. Clark was quite ready to crack jokes over 
his mishap, though he insisted that but for Kit he 
should have been drowned. And Captain Fraser re- 
fused to see any but the funny side of it, and de- 
clared that such a roll of fat as the purser could not 
possibly have been in danger of drowning. 

“ I think I shall have to stop going ashore at any 
of the ports, except on business,” Kit said, after the 
accident had been well discussed ; “ particularly 
toward night. In all my voyages I have not had a 
sign of an adventure on the water ; but as soon as I 
go ashore, something is sure to happen. The first 


310 THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

night in Marseilles we were imprisoned in Louis- 
Philippe’s cell in Monte Cristo’s castle; the second 
night we were up in Notre-Dame-de-la-Garde when 
the elevators broke, and had a cardinal to entertain 
us ; now here I go ashore for a little ride in the 
country, and tumble into the pitch lake.” 

“ Don’t you worry about adventures on the water, 
young man,” Captain Fraser said, almost precisely as 
Captain Griffith had once answered him. “All you 
have to do is to stick to the sea long enough, and 
your adventures are sure to come. I shouldn’t be in 
any hurry for them, either, if I were you. Some- 
times a man comes out on the top side of an advent- 
ure ; but more times lie’s on the under side, and 
don’t come out at all.” 

On the homeward voyage, whenever he had a few 
spare moments, Kit tried to think out what he ought 
to do. As soon as his cargo was out he would make 
a hurried trip home ; that was the first thing. There 
could not possibly be a second letter from the New 
Zealand consul yet, but there might be a photograph. 
And if — ah ! if the photograph proved to be what 
he hoped, he would fly back to New York and take 
his promised leave of absence, get Captain Fraser’s 
and Mr. Clark’s help to find a berth on some steamer 
going to Australia, and be off for New Zealand as 
fast as possible. And Captain Griffith would help 
him, too, if the North Cape had not sailed again. 
What a lucky fellow he was, he thought, to have 
three such friends to help him ! 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 311 

These were all reasonable and natural tilings for 
him to think of ; perfectly proper plans for him to 
make. But when shall we see the happy time when 
the best laid plans may not sometimes go wrong ? 

When the ' J Trinidad neared her pier on the North 
River, Mr. Clark was quite excited and very much 
annoyed to find that one of her sister ships, the 
Orinoco , was lying on the other side of the slip. 

“Now that’s going to upset everything,” he ex- 
claimed. 

“ Why, what difference does it make, sir,” Kit 
asked, “ whether the Orinoco is here or not ? ” 

“ Difference ! ” the purser repeated. “ A heap of 
difference to us all, as you may find. The Orinoco 
is running on the Bermuda line, and she ought to 
be out there now. Something has broken down 
about her, or she wouldn’t be lying here. And if 
that is the case, we will be put in her place for 
Bermuda. That means that we shall have to hustle 
this cargo out as fast as steam and men can move 
it, and get another in equally fast, and be off to sea 
again before we have time to say Jack Robinson.” 

That was precisely what happened. As soon as 
the Trinidad was docked they received orders to 
prepare for a voyage to Bermuda ; and as they must 
leave port within three days, Kit saw that he should 
be busy every minute, without the slightest chance 
of going home. 

In the hurry of emptying the ship and reloading 
her in so short a time he barely had opportunity to 


312 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


write a brief note to Vieve, telling her of the circum- 
stances and asking her to send him, the moment she 
received the letter, a telegram saying whether the 
photograph or another letter had arrived from New 
Zealand. All his plans were of course upset, but 
there was nothing for him to do but give himself up 
to work and forget, as far as possible, his own affairs. 

The way the old cargo was taken out and the new 
one put in was very different from the manner of 
work he had become accustomed to in European and 
West Indian ports. The gangs of ’longshoremen, 
working by night under electric lights, were relieved 
every eight or ten hours ; but only the purser and 
his assistant could attend to the clerical labor, and 
there was no relief for them. 

The Trinidad was almost ready for sea again, and 
some of the Bermuda passengers were already on 
board, when a blue-coated telegraph messenger in- 
quired his way to the purser’s office and handed Kit 
a telegram. He could not hesitate about opening 
it, for he had no time now to hesitate about any- 
thing ; but he understood perfectly well that its con- 
tents might make a great change in his movements. 

Christopher Silburn [the message read], Assistant Purser , 
S. S. Trinidad , New York. 

No letter. No photograph. All well. 

Genevieve. 

Under other circumstances that would have been 
a disappointment ; but now it was what he hoped 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


313 


for, for with so much extra work he felt that it 
would be unfair for him to leave everything to 
Mr. Clark until the ship returned from Bermuda. 

On the second day out, while sitting at his desk 
working at the manifest, Kit leaned his head on one 
hand and took serious counsel with himself. 

“ I have made a good many voyages,” he reflected ; 
“ to Sisal, to Barbadoes, twice across the Atlantic 
and back, and again to the West Indies. But I have 
never — ” 

He suddenly resolved to finish his reflections in 
the open air ; and for greater convenience he leaned 
heavily against the rail. 

“ What’s the matter, Silburn ? ” Mr. Clark asked 
through the open door, catching a glimpse of his 
assistant’s white face. “ You don’t mean to say that 
you’re — ” 

“ Yes, I do, sir ! ” Kit answered, leaning over the 
rail again for fresh thought. “ After all my voyages, 
this little choppy sea has made me just as sick as 
a dog ! ” 

“Ah, you’re not the first victim of the Bermuda 
voyage!” the purser laughed. “I get sick myself 
out here sometimes. It’s the Gulf Stream that does 
it, my boy. We cross the stream diagonally, and the 
current catches us under the starboard quarter and 
gives us a nasty little motion, half pitch and half 
roll, that sends the oldest sailors to the rail some- 
times. Lie down a few minutes, and you’ll feel 
better.” 


314 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ No, sir, I’m not going to give in to it,” Kit 
replied. “ I’ll walk the deck -a little in the air. I 
don’t see a single passenger on deck.” 

“ So much the better ! ” said the purser, with 
another of his jolly laughs. “ When they’re all sick 
they can’t be haunting our office to ask questions. 
We can do very well without them.” 

Kit’s nausea soon wore off under his open-air treat- 
ment ; and before many hours he was too much inter- 
ested in his first look at Bermuda to think of being 
sick. Though he had seen many places, this was en- 
tirely different from any of the others. Here were 
three hundred and sixty-five little islands (so report 
said ; and that estimate looked about right) grouped 
together in mid-ocean, forming a tiny kingdom far 
removed from the rest of the world. 

After taking a pilot, the Trinidad bore down 
toward one of the points of the largest island, which 
was shaped like a horseshoe, with a large smooth 
bay in the hollow. There was a town on the point, 
which the ship seemed to be heading for ; but when 
near it she coyly circled away to follow the shore- 
line in the opposite direction, almost turning on her 
course, entered the horseshoe bay, and steamed for 
several hours, still skirting the shore, among tiny 
islets, nearly grazing half-hidden rocks, turning and 
twisting in here, out there, till she reached a smaller 
bay making in from the large one, on whose shore 
was another and larger town. 

“ How do you like that for a channel ? ” Mr. Clark 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


315 


asked. “ It is called the most intricate channel in 
tlie world, and I suppose it is. That first town was 
St. George’s. We had to go so close to it because the 
channel runs that way. This place is Hamilton, the 
capital. Have you noticed that most of the people 
live in white marble houses ? ” 

“ Yes, I have been wondering at that,” Kit an- 
swered. “ They must have marble quarries here.” 

“ Most strangers wonder at it when they first see 
the islands,” the purser went on. “ But they are 
not all millionnaires here, as you might think. Those 
walls are made of rough stone, plastered over and 
whitewashed ; and from the sea they look exactly 
like marble. There are more queer things here than 
you could put in a sea-chest, and it’s a pity we’ll not 
have more time. They don’t quarry their stone out, 
you know, like other people, but cut it out with saws. 
It’s soft stuff, like that building-stone you must have 
seen in Marseilles, but hardens when exposed to the 
air. Now if you want to see a novel way of docking 
a ship, just watch.” 

On shore was a broad street, with no buildings on 
the water-side except a long, low iron shed that was 
nothing but pillars and roof, with no walls. A great 
many colored people waited on the wharf, and a few 
whites, and Kit noticed two big round timbers lying 
near the edge, with a little pile of planks. The 
Trinidad was carefully brought to a stop about thirty 
feet from the wharf, her further progress being 
prevented by a hidden ledge of rocks ; and a gang of 


3i 6 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


colored laborers immediately began to shove out the 
heavy timbers, with a little help from the ship’s 
donkey engine and winches. In a few minutes one 
end of each timber rested on the wharf and the other 
end upon the ship’s deck, making the skeleton of a 
substantial bridge. To these large timbers the men 
lashed smaller cross-pieces, then laid on the planks 
for a flooring, and in about twenty minutes the 
steamer was connected with shore by a bridge strong 
enough for much heavier work than would be re- 
quired of it. 

There was part of one afternoon, while the Trinidad 
lay at Bermuda, that both the purser and his assist- 
ant were at liberty ; but that was not long enough 
for the favorite drive to St. George’s. 

“ There’s one place that we could go, five or six 
miles from town,” Mr. Clark said, “ and that’s the 
Walsingham caves and Tom Moore’s house.” 

“ Moore’s house ! ” Kit repeated ; “ you don’t mean 
the poet, Thomas Moore, I suppose.” 

“ That’s the man,” the purser answered. “ He 
lived here for some time. It is just a nice drive out 
to his house, and the caves are very near it. But as 
to going out there with you , no I thank you ! The 
caves are very spooky-looking places, dark and slip- 
pery ; and you admit yourself that you are a hoodoo 
on shore. When you go to Monte Cristo’s castle, 
you are locked in a cell. When you go to that 
church on the hill, the elevators break down. When 
you go with me to the pitch lake, I am all but 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


31 7 


drowned. If I should go to the caves with you, I’d 
no doubt be buried alive. I beg to be excused.” 

“ If that is the only objection,” Kit laughed, “ may- 
be we can make a compromise. I never cared any- 
thing about caves, but I should like to see the house 
that Mr. Moore lived in. My collection of foreign 
curiosities includes a count and a cardinal so far, 
you know. I should like to add a poet.” 

After a little bantering, Mr. Clark agreed to go as 
far as Walsingham, Mr. Moore’s house, but declared 
that he would on no account go near the caves. And 
it was as well that there were two to divide the ex- 
pense of the carriage between, for Bermuda cab fares 
are “on the American plan,” not on the cheaper 
European scale. 

They found the poet’s house to be a plain double 
two-story edifice of stone, so blackened by time and 
weather that it looked gloomy in the extreme ; and 
the yard in front grown up with bushes, a large lake 
in the rear studded with black rocks and bordered 
with dismal drooping mangrove trees, and the gen- 
eral dilapidation of the place, added to the sombre- 
ness. 

Kit was much amused at Mr. Clark’s positive re- 
fusal to get out of the carriage, for fear of something 
happening. But he got out himself and went all over 
the place, and was satisfied that nothing but the most 
solemn poetry could ever have been written in so 
gloomy a place. 

“ You don’t really mean that you’re afraid of some- 


318 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


tiling happening when you go ashore with me, Mr. 
Clark, do you ? ” Kit asked his companion on the way 
back to the ship. “ You must be joking about that.” 

“ Not exactly in the way you mean,” the purser 
answered. “ But some people are always having 
adventures of one kind or another ; it comes natural 
to them ; and I think you’re one of that sort. It’s 
all very well for youngsters like you. But when you 
come to be my age, or especially my weight, you’ll find 
that a trifling adventure may mean something serious. 
To slip into a lake means a bad cold, as I know to 
my cost ; a fall may mean some broken bones. No ; 
adventures are for the young and spry, not for the 
old and fat.” 

“ W ell, we have certainly had a safe and quiet trip 
ashore this time, sir,” Kit said, with a laugh, as, once 
more on deck, they reached the door of their office. 
“ This whole voyage is about as quiet a trip as any 
one could ask for.” 

At that moment his eye caught sight of a small 
bluish envelope lying sealed upon his desk. It was ad- 
dressed simply to “ Silburn, str. Trinidad , Bermuda,” 
and the printing across the top indicated that it was 
a cable message. He hastily tore it open and read : 

“ Silburn str Trinidad Bermuda Photograph re- 
ceived very encouraging Genevieve ” 

There was no punctuation, hardly any divisions 
between the words ; but its meaning was plain 
enough. 

“Now isn’t that a thoughtful sister of mine! ” he 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


319 


exclaimed, handing the message to Mr. Clark. “ She 
knows that I’ll be in a hurry to set off if we identify 
the picture. So she sends me this cable to give me 
time to make any arrangements on the way up to 
New York.” 

“ This is important news for you, Silburn,” the 
purser said, after reading the few words. “ It looks 
very much as if you would find your father.” 

“ It is the best news I ever got in my life, sir,” 
Kit answered. “ I don’t quite understand what my 
sister means by ‘ very encouraging,’ but I imagine 
they are still in a little doubt after seeing the picture, 
though they think it looks like my father.” 

“ That is exactly what I anticipated after hearing 
your story,” the purser agreed. “ You have no idea 
how hardships and sickness can alter a man’s appear- 
ance in a few months ; and from what you tell me, 
your father, if this is your father, must have gone 
through a great deal. Now what do you propose to 
do about it ? ” 

“ I think I ought to get out there just as soon as 
possible, sir,” Kit answered, “ if we are all agreed at 
home that the picture bears a reasonable resemblance 
to my father.” 

“I can’t advise you against it, Silburn; I can’t 
advise you against it,” Mr. Clark said, more seriously 
than was his custom. “If I were out there in that 
fix, I should expect one of my boys to come after me 
just as fast as a ship would bring him. I don’t want 
to lose you for a few months, but it is your duty to 


320 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


go. You must remember, though, that you are to 
come back to me. I will get some one to take your 
place while you are gone, but I want you back again 
when you return.” 

On the homeward voyage there were some serious 
talks in the purser’s office about how Kit was to be 
got to New Zealand. 

“ It just amounts to this,” Captain Fraser said, 
after the matter had been well discussed. “ If there 
is any ship going that way that I know the master 
of, or the owners of, I can almost certainly arrange 
it for you ; and if there isn’t, I can’t. You will have 
to go without pay, you understand ; just for your 
passage there and back.” 

“ I will willingly do that, sir,” Kit answered. 

“ Then I’ll tell you how I think it can be done,” 
the Captain continued. “ Here’s a steamer, we’ll say, 
loading for Australia, with a supercargo at so many 
dollars a month. Now after seeing the owners or 
agents and convincing them that you are a super- 
cargo of experience and understand your business, 
and getting their consent, we go to the supercargo 
and say, ‘ Here’s a seafaring man got a sick father 
in New Zealand ; wants to go out there and bring 
him home ; willing to make the round voyage and 
do your work for the sake of the passage. We have 
seen your agents and they are willing. You stay 
ashore this voyage and draw your pay and enjoy 
yourself, and he’ll do your work.’ ” 

“Well, 1 wonder that I never thought of that 


-A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


321 


before ! ” Kit exclaimed. “ It’s the very best plan that 
could be made.” 

“ I think it can be done, if we can strike the right 
ship,” the Captain continued. “You couldn’t very 
well do it for yourself, you understand ; but what’s 
the use of having friends if they can’t help you along 
a little ? It’s a different matter if an old shipmaster 
like myself goes to the firm and says, ‘ I know this 
young man. I recommend him.’ And I take Cap- 
tain Griffith along, if he is in port, and he says, ‘ This 
man was trained on lhy ship ; he is a good super- 
cargo ; I recommend him.’ And Clark goes along 
and says, 4 This man is my assistant purser on the 
Trinidad ; he understands his business and will take 
care of your interests ; I recommend him.’ You see 
that- makes a pretty strong backing; and if that isn’t 
enough, I’ll get the Quebec Steamship Company to 
put in a word too. Just you go home after you get 
your cargo out and leave me your address, and we’ll 
attend to the rest for you.” 

Kit began to try to thank them both for their 
good opinion of him ; but seeing what was coming 
they quickly changed the subject. 

The photograph had caused many a tear to be 
shed in the Silburn cottage in Huntington, and 
there was a fresh flood when Kit reached home. 
So old the man looked ; so wan and worried ; so 
bent and gray ! What sufferings must he not have 
endured if that was indeed a picture of Christopher 
Silburn! 


322 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Take off the beard,” Kit declared, “ trim the 
long hair, straighten the back, smooth out the 
wrinkles, and there is father ! Of course it is not 
a certainty, but I feel reasonably sure of it.” 

“ So do I ! ” Vieve echoed. 

“ I pray you may both be right ! ” was all that Mrs. 
Silburn could say. 

Two days later a neighbor’s boy ran in to say that 
Kit was wanted at the telephone office in a hurry. 
He ran up the hill to the post-office, in which was a 
station of the New York and New England telephone 
line. 


u That you, Silburn ? ” a familiar voice asked. 
“ Yes, I’m Captain Fraser, in New York. It’s all 
arranged for you. You’re to take the supercargo’s 
place on the steamer Brindisi , sailing for Mel- 
bourne next Thursday. Come in and report to 
Hayes, Ward, & Burt’s, 82 South Street, as soon 
as possible. Got that down? Good luck to you, 
my boy. Here’s somebody else wants^Io speak to 
you.” 

“ That you, Kit ? ” It was the familiar and beloved 
voice of Captain Griffith. “ It’s all fixed for you. 
You’ll be over to the North Cape to say good-by, 
of course. Remember what I told you long ago 
about money.” 

Before Kit could answer, a third voice came over 
the wire. 

“ Look out for pitch lakes over there ! ” There 
was no mistaking the cheery voice of Mr. Clark. 


A VOYAGE TO BERMUDA. 


323 


“ We’ll be gone before you see us, but never mind. 
We’ve done a good day’s work for you to-day, Sil- 
burn. A good voyage to you, and — success ! ” 

There were so many hundred things to be done at 
home in so few hours ! And that ever-present, ever- 
troublesome question of money ! The hard saving 
of the whole family for months had not been for 
nothing. Kit was surprised to find how much his 
mother had saved for this occasion; and she was 
equally surprised to learn that he had nearly two 
hundred dollars in his pocket. With the joy of the 
errand and the sorrow of parting he hardly remem- 
bered just what happened when he said good-by. 

“ Be careful of my little parcel ! ” Yieve called 
after him as Silas cracked his whip and the stage 
rattled down the road. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 

I T was a beautiful spring-like day in the latter part 
of September when Kit stepped ashore on the 
quay in the city of Wellington, New Zealand. , Fresh 
new leaves were upon the trees, fresh green grass in 
the lawns, bright fresh flowers in the beds. Nature 
had recently awakened from her winter sleep, and 
the young city of the Antipodes was at its brightest 
and best. 

During the long voyage he had had ample time to 
determine just what he must do on arrival. First, of 
course, he would go to the American . consul’s and 
introduce himself ; and how often he had hoped that 
the consul would not detain him long, for he would 
be so anxious to get to the hospital ! And then he 
would hurry to the hospital, and in five minutes the 
great question would be decided. 

But now that he was actually on the spot, things 
did not look, somehow, exactly as he had expected. 
No place ever does look just as we expect when we 
have long been thinking about it and then go to see 
it for the first time. He looked with curiosity at the 
324 


KIT FINpS HIS FATHER. 


325 


big buildings, wondering which was the hospital, 
which the consulate. He could hardly grasp the idea 
that in all probability his father was in one of those 
buildings before him. But suppose that, after all, the 
man in the hospital should not prove to be his father ; 
suppose he had made this long journey for nothing ? 
He quickened his steps up the street to walk these 
useless fancies away. 

“ Will you be kind enough to tell me the way to 
the American consulate, sir ? ” he asked a gentleman 
whom he met. 

“ It is in that red brick building on the other side,” 
the gentleman answered. “ You cannot very well 
miss it.” 

In two minutes more he had made himself known 
to Mr. Wilkins, the vice-consul and acting consul. 

“ I rather thought we should see you here,” Mr. 
Wilkins said,“ but hardly so soon. My second letter 
must have made good time over to America.” 

“Your second letter!” Kit exclaimed; “we had 
not received a second letter from you, sir, when I left 
home. I started as soon as we got the photograph 
you sent.” 

“ Oh, yes ; I see,” said Mr. Wilkins. “ Then you 
recognized your father in the photograph, did you ? ” 

“ Not with certainty,” Kit replied ; “ but there was 
a resemblance. But was there any further news in 
your second letter, sir ? ” 

“ Well, I can hardly say any further news, except 
that there has been a great improvement in your 


326 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


father — at least in the man in the hospital. Even 
since the photograph was taken he has improved 
very much. Physically, I mean ; he is a great deal 
stronger, and looks and acts much younger. And 
mentally he has improved somewhat, too. He is not 
able to give the least account of himself, to be sure ; 
the past seems to be a perfect blank to him ; but in 
affairs of the present he takes some intelligent interest. 
I am glad that you will see him in his improved con- 
dition rather than as he was some months ago. It 
was a hard matter for the consulate to deal with. A 
distressed American sailor we are allowed to send 
home at the public expense ; but there was no 
evidence that this man is an American sailor — or 
indeed an American at all.” 

“ I think I can soon settle that question when I see 
him, sir,” Kit answered. “ If he is my father, I shall 
know him, no matter how much he is changed. And 
naturally I am anxious to see him as soon as possible. 
If you will be kind enough to give me a line of intro- 
duction to the hospital authorities, I will go there at 
once.” 

“ Of course you are anxious ! ” the consul as- 
sented. “ You have been kept in suspense a terribly 
long time ; but you shall know the best or the worst 
without delay. I will go over to the hospital with 
you at once. It is only a few steps from here.” 

In the hospital they were shown into the house 
surgeon’s office ; and when the surgeon entered he 
was greatly interested to find that some one had 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER . 32 7 

come from the other side of the world in the hope of 
identifying the mysterious John Doe. 

“ It is a case that we have all taken much interest 
in,” he said. “ If you could have seen him when he 
arrived here, you would be assured by his present 
appearance that we have taken good care of him. 
But you have made a long journey to find a father, 
and I will not keep you waiting. For some weeks 
this patient has been going in and out at his own 
pleasure, under the necessary restrictions ; but his 
favorite place is the sunny courtyard. To avoid 
exciting him unduly, I think the best plan will be to 
induce him to walk in the courtyard ; and we three 
will then walk quietly through. That will give the 
best opportunity to see whether you can identify 
him, or whether he will recognize you.” 

“ You know best about that, sir,” Kit answered. 

The surgeon tapped his bell, and in a moment an 
attendant entered — the same one who had held the 
flags in front of the patient long before. 

“ I want you to get J ohn Doe into the courtyard 
for a walk,” the surgeon said. “ This gentleman 
hopes to identify him, and in a few minutes we will 
walk through the yard. But give the patient no hint 
that anything unusual is happening. Just ask him 
out for a walk ; he is always ready for a walk in the 
sun.” 

“ I must caution you,” the surgeon said to Kit 
after the attendant had gone to execute his order, 
“ that in these cases of suspended memory we have 


328 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


to be prepared for almost anything. Nothing is 
surprising. If the patient proves to be your father, 
he may recognize you at once, and the shock may 
restore his lost memory in an instant. On the 
other hand, he may not recognize you at all. Or if 
he does, he may treat you as if you had left him 
only a few minutes before — as if your being here 
was a perfectly natural thing. If he knows you at 
all, it is an extremely favorable indication. With 
one little beginning, his whole past will almost cer- 
tainly come back to him.” 

As they walked through the long corridor toward 
the door that was to admit them to the courtyard, 
Kit felt his heart beating against his ribs as though 
trying to break them. The consul said something, 
but it made no impression upon him. He heard 
footsteps on the stone pavement outside, and tried to 
recognize them, but could not. The surgeon threw 
open the door, and they stepped out. 

At the farther end of the yard, where the sun 
shone brightest, “John Doe” was walking slowly 
up and down, with his hands clasped behind him. 

“ That is my father ! ” Kit said very quietly. 

It surprised him that he could speak so coolly, for 
he felt anything but cool. The moisture in his eyes 
was beyond his control ; but he had firmly made up 
his mind that he would make no scene, whatever 
happened. He had too often been disgusted at see- 
ing bearded Frenchmen hug and kiss each other like 
scliool-girls ; he would have none of that — at least 
not in public. 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 329 

For a moment neither of his companions spoke. 
They appreciated his feelings and gave him time to 
collect himself. But the consul’s hand stole into his 
and gave him a warm grip. Then another hand ; 
that was the surgeon’s. 

After a short delay the surgeon put his arm through 
Kit’s, and the three walked across the yard toward 
the patient. It was a terribly trying moment for 
Kit. The impulse to rush forward and clasp his 
father’s hands was almost irresistible, but he re- 
strained himself. 

Before they were half way across the yard, “ John 
Doe,” now John Doe no longer, but Christopher Sil- 
burn, hearing footsteps, turned and looked around. 
Recognizing the surgeon, he nodded to him, and was 
.about to resume his walk, when something about 
their party attracted his attention. He looked again, 
and turned his steps toward them — not in his former 
aimless way, but as if he had an object in view. In 
a moment more Kit and his father were face to face. 

“ Now what’s kept you all this time, Kit ? ” Mr. 
Silburn asked, in an annoyed tone. u When I send 
you on an errand, I want you to do it and come 
straight home. I will not have this sort of thing.” 

It was so utterly different from anything he had 
anticipated that Kit was completely taken off his 
guard. But as soon as he recovered himself he was 
filled with joy at being recognized at all. He must, 
he knew, humor his father’s mood, and lead him 
gradually along. 


330 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ I got here a's soon as I could, father,” he answered, 
in a tone as tender as a girl’s. “ There were some 
things I had to do for mother first.” 

“ Where is mother ? ” Mr. Silburn asked, looking 
around as if he expected to find her behind him. 

“ She’s in the house — at home,” Kit answered. 

“AndVieve?” he asked. 

“ She’s at home, too.” 

“ Well, you must do your mother’s errands, of 
course,” Mr. Silburn went on. “ But I don’t like to 
have you away so long, Kit. I’ve been wanting you 
to bring me my other clothes. I can’t find them 
anywhere, but they must be some place around the 
house. I’m tired of these gray ones.” 

He held out one arm and looked at the sleeve, then 
down at the legs of the trousers, as if they were some- 
thing new to him. 

“ Hadn’t we better go down to the tailor’s and get 
your new ones?” Kit asked. “ They must be done 
by this time, and you will have to try them on.” 

He looked at the surgeon as ha spoke, and the sur- 
geon gave him an approving nod, as if to say, “Yes, 
humor him as much as you can.” 

“ Yes, we will go and get the new ones,” Mr. Sil- 
burn answered. “ I don’t like these gray ones at 
all.” 

“ In just a minute, father,” Kit said. “ I want to 
run into the house a minute first.” 

The surgeon took the hint and followed him in, 
for he saw that Kit desired to speak to him. 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 


331 


“ Perhaps it will make him feel more like himself 
to have the kind of clothes he is accustomed to — a 
dark blue suit,” he suggested. “ If you think best I 
will take him out to a tailor’s to buy some. And he 
would like to have his hair and beard trimmed in the 
old way, I am sure.” 

“ Yes, the more you can make him look like his 
old self, the better,” the surgeon assented. “ He is 
doing famously. Don’t contradict him in anything. 
Just let him take his own way as he has been doing, 
and it will not be long before he will discover that 
there has been some change in his surroundings. 
Then he will begin to ask questions, and you can 
tell him what has happened. 

“ I advise you to bring him back here,” the sur- 
geon continued, “ at least for a few days. It would 
not be well to make everything too strange for him 
at first. We will give you a room here with two 
beds, so that you can stay with him. By the time 
you get back from your walk you may find a great 
improvement in him ; I can see that having you 
with him makes him feel happier.” 

When the two Christopher Silburns started down 
the street for the tailor’s, the consul went with them, 
for he was very much interested in the strange case ; 
and it was not long before the patient was arrayed 
in a dark blue suit, with a new derby hat ; and after 
his hair and beard had been trimmed to the way he 
was accustomed to wear them, he looked so much 
like the old Christopher Silburn that Kit could 


332 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


hardly help dancing around him for joy. But he 
held himself in, and made no demonstrations. It 
was evident that his father was very much pleased, 
too, with the change in his appearance ; he admired 
himself in the mirror, drew himself up till the stoop 
was gone from his shoulders, and was very particu- 
lar to have the new hat on straight. It was nothing 
but the truth when the consul said that he looked 
like a new man. 

“ I should like to go to the cable office for a min- 
ute or two,” Kit said, when they w T ere done with the 
barber. “ I don’t want to keep all this pleasure to 
myself.” 

But writing a cable message home, when every 
word cost more than a day’s salary, was no easy 
matter. The first one he wrote contained sixteen 
words, and that was far too long. After many trials 
he got it reduced to nine, in this fashion : — 

Silburn, Huntington, Conn. 

Father much improved. Knows me. 

Kit. 

“ That tells them that I have found him, and that 
we are both all right,” he reflected. It was just like 
Kit that the first real extravagance he ever com- 
mitted was for his mother and Vieve, not for his own 
pleasure. The message cost him nearly thirty 
dollars. 

“ Who is that to ? ” his father asked, as he handed 
the telegram to the clerk. 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 


333 


“ To mother,” Kit replied. “ It’s just to let her 
know that we are all right.” 

“ And where is mother ? ” was the next question. 

“ Why, at home, in Huntington,” Kit answered, 
thinking that now were coming the questions that 
the doctor had said were sure to come sooner or later. 
But he was mistaken. His father looked perplexed, 
as though trying hard to think about something, 
but walked out of the office with them without say- 
ing more, stroking what the barber had left of his 
beard. 

On the way up the street to the consul’s office, 
however, he stopped and seized Kit by the arm. 

“ Kit,” he said, “ what place is this ? ” 

“ This is Wellington, New Zealand, father,” Kit 
replied. 

His father merely nodded his head and went on 
stroking his beard, but asked no more. It worried 
Kit to see how very hard he was trying to remember 
something, without succeeding. But it was not till 
they were seated in the consul’s office that he spoke 
again. 

“ There is something I don’t understand,” he said 
then to Kit. “ And I see you don’t want to tell me; 
but tell me this, is anything wrong at home ? ” 

66 Not a thing, father,” Kit answered. 

u Nobody dead ?” 

“ No, indeed ; nor sick, either ; and in an hour or 
two they’ll be the happiest couple in the world, when 
they get my message.” 


334 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


“ Well, then I can wait,” Mr. Silburn answered. 
“ I don’t know what it all means, but it’s all right, 
since you’re here. You’re such a big fellow, Kit; 
I had no idea you were such a big boy. And you’re 
going home with me ? ” 

“ In the very first ship,” Kit answered. 

“ Then it’s all right,” he said ; “ you can tell me 
when you get ready. Things are all in a muddle, 
somehow.” 

The consul had a great many questions to ask 
about Kit’s voyage, and his business, and how long 
he was going to stay ; and after a little conversation, 
of which Mr. Silburn took no notice, he asked one in 
which the former patient took a sudden interest. 

“ Don’t you both feel as if you could eat some- 
thing? There is an excellent restaurant across the 
street, and I should be glad to have you eat dinner 
with me.” 

“ Yes, I’m hungry,” Mr. Silburn answered. “ I 
haven’t eaten anything since — no, I’m getting mixed 
again. The last thing I ate was a bit of raw 
lobster, but I can’t remember where it was.” 

When they were seated at the table, the patient 
gave ample proof that his loss of memory did not 
affect his appetite. 

“ That lobster you spoke of,” the consul said, 
hoping to revive the subject, “ was that on the 
island ? ” 

“ It seems to me it was on an island some- 
where,” Mr. Silburn answered. “Not much of an 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 


335 


island, as far as I can remember ; just a little place, 
with only a few people on it. I’m glad you spoke 
of it; though it seems to put me in mind of some- 
thing, though I can’t think what it is. Give me some 
more of the roast beef, please.” 

When Kit and his father retired to their room in 
the hospital early that evening, a room evidently 
kept for some of the staff rather than for patients, 
Kit drew one of the big chairs up to the table, and 
seating his father in it, proceeded to open the small 
package that Yieve had entrusted to him. 

“ You see Yieve hasn’t forgotten you, father,” he 
said. u She thought you must miss your slippers, so 
she made me bring them over to you. And here’s 
something else. Do you remember this ? ” 

He reached into one of the slippers and took out 
his father’s pocket knife that the sailor from the 
Floiver City had given him. 

“ I’ve been looking everywhere for that knife,” 
Mr. Silburn said, taking it as coolly as if he had mis- 
laid it somewhere the day before. “ Where did you 
find it, Kit ? ” 

“ I got it from the man you handed it to, to cut 
away one of the Floiver City's boats with, sir,” Kit 
answered. u Do you remember that ? ” 

“ Why shouldn’t I remember it ? ” Mr. Silburn 
asked, a little petulantly. “ I handed it to Blinkey, 
and they got away from the schooner all right. Has 
anything been heard from them yet ? ” 

“ Blinkey is safe in England,” Kit replied, as he 


336 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


took off his father’s shoes and put on his slippers. 
u But you and he are the only ones who have been 
heard of.” 

“ Oh, well, they’ll be all right,” Mr. Silburn ex- 
claimed ; “ they were good tight boats, and — no, 
our boat went to pieces, though. I get these things 
so mixed. My head’s all in a muddle with trying to 
remember, and it tires me. I think you’d better 
help me get to bed, Kit. I’ll be rested by morn- 
ing.” 

“ Kit ! ” he called, as Kit was tucking the bed- 
clothes snugly about him ; “ you still here, Kit?” 

“ Yes; here I am, father.” 

“ And you’ve come all the way to New Zealand to 
take me home ? ” 

“ Yes ; we’re going home just as fast as we can.” 

“ And you won’t go without me, Kit ? ” 

“ Do you think I’d be likely to do such a thing, 
father ? ” Kit asked. 

“ No, you wouldn’t, Kit ; you always were a good 
boy. And I’ll be rested by morning.” And with 
Kit’s hand firmly clutched in his he closed his eyes 
and gave up trying to remember. 

Kit stood by the bedside for some minutes, till he 
was sure that his father was asleep; then he sat 
down at the table and wrote a long letter home, know- 
ing that the mails would reach America weeks earlier 
than the slow Brindisi could arrive. And a letter to 
Mr. Clark too, and another to Captain Griffith. It 
was nearly midnight before he got to bed, but the 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 


337 


fatigue and excitement of the day insured a good 
night’s sleep. 

“ Kit, my boy, wake up. I want you to tell me 
something.” 

When Kit opened his eyes, the sun was streaming 
in the windows, and his father, already dressed, was 
standing by his bed. He sprang up and began to 
put on his clothes. 

“ I want you to tell me, Kit,” he repeated, seating 
himself in one of the big chairs, “ how long I have 
been away from home.” 

“ Nearly two years, sir,” Kit answered. 

“ Two years ! ” Mr. Silburn exclaimed, springing 
from his chair. “ You’re not making game of me, 
Kit ? You wouldn’t do that, my boy ! ” 

“No, sir,” Kit answered; “it is true. After the 
wreck of the Floiver City you disappeared, and we 
almost gave you up. Then after a long time we 
heard of an American sailor in the hospital here in 
New Zealand, and got them to send us a photograph. 
We were not sure even then; but I came on, and 
found you. So that trouble is all over, and you 
mustn’t worry yourself about it.” 

“No, I’ll not worry about it,” his father replied. 
“ But I want to know ; it makes a man feel so fool- 
ish not to know where he has been. How did you 
get here, my boy ? ” 

That made a long story ; for Kit had to tell how 
he had been a cabin boy and a supercargo ; how he 
had become an assistant purser ; and how his good 


338 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


friends on the two ships had paved the way for him 
to New Zealand. As he got on with the recital, his 
father seized his hand and fondled it ; and before he 
finished, great tears of love and gratitude were roll- 
ing down the old sailor’s cheeks. 

While he was still in this position, the house sur- 
geon called to learn how his former patient had 
passed the night. 

“ That’s what I want to see,” he said, as he took 
in the situation. “ You shed no tears while you 
remembered nothing, Mr. Silburn. This is one of the 
best symptoms, to have your emotions aroused. Don’t 
try to push your memory now ; it will all come back 
to you ; give it time.” 

In the four days that Kit could spend in New Zea- 
land, he saw improvement every day. Gradually it 
came back to his father that after the Flower City's 
boat went to pieces, he was a long time in the water. 
That when he was about to give up, he was rescued 
by some ship, he could not remember her name, that 
carried him around Cape Horn. That that ship was 
also wrecked and abandoned. Then there was a 
hazy picture in his mind of a desert island, and terri- 
ble suffering from hunger and thirst. All beyond 
that was still a blank. 

Kit was so jealous of anything that took him away 
from his father, that it was a relief to hear that the 
Bishop of New Zealand had gone to Australia on busi- 
ness ; so it would be useless for him to present his 
letter from the cardinal. That would have been val- 


KIT FINDS HIS FATHER. 339 

liable in case of trouble, but all had been smooth sail- 
ing. 

Throughout the long voyage home, in which Mr. 
Silburn was a passenger on the Brindisi , he continued 
to improve. There was hardly anything now about 
his adventures that he could not remember, except 
his long stay in the Wellington Hospital. Every 
little incident had been discussed over and over. 
But it was not till the vessel had passed Sandy Hook, 
and was steaming slowly up New York Bay, that he 
let Kit know of something that had been worrying 
him. 

“ There was a payment due on the house about the 
time I ought to have been home,” he said. “ I’m 
afraid we are going to have trouble about that.” 

It was worth all the hard work to Kit, all the 
hard saving, to be able to tell his father that the 
indebtedness had been paid to the last penny. 


CHAPTER XX. 

love’s young dream in barbadoes. 

LD Silas beamed all over as he and Kit tucked 



V_/ the robes around Mr. Silburn in the Hunting- 
ton stage, once more on runners. It seemed to the 
young supercargo that the very horses had a pleased 


look. 


“Well, sir, I didn’t expect to see this again!” 
Silas declared. “ Many a time I’ve took Kit up to 
Hunt’ n’ ton, this last year or two. Why, Mr. Silburn, 
the first time he went up with me he didn’t have no 
overcoat to put on, an’ I had to wrap him in the hoss 
blanket. But next time he come home, bless you, 
his clo’es was good as anybody’s. I says to myself, 
says I, c That there boy’s a makin’ his way, he is.’ 
An’ then he comes with gold braid on his cap ; an’ 
look at him now, will you ! But I swan to goodness, 
I didn’t expect to see him ridin’ up alongside of his 
father any more. We’d all give you up, Mr. Sil- 
burn.” 

“ No, not quite all ! ” Mr. Silburn laughed. “ Here’s 
one fellow didn’t give me up, or I wouldn’t be tak- 
ing a ride with you to-day, Silas. If he hadn’t stuck 


340 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM IN BARBADOES. 


341 


to me through thick and thin ” (and he gave Kit a clap 
on the shoulder), “ I’d still be out in New Zealand eat- 
ing stewed mutton in that hospital.” 

“I wasn’t the only one who didn’t give him up,” 
Kit protested. “We always kept his chair and 
slippers ready for him.” 

“And you ain’t brought no baggage, Mr. Silburn?” 
Silas asked. 

“ Baggage ? ” Mr. Silburn repeated ; “ this little 
satchel here, that Kit got me. The rest of my bag- 
gage is pretty well scattered, Silas. Let me see ; I 
have a chest of clothes somewhere off Hatteras, but 
they’ve been on the bottom of the ocean for two 
years, so I’m afraid they must be damp. Then there’s 
a quarter interest in a flag pole on some island in the 
Pacific, but I had to leave that behind. And there’s 
a suit of gray clothes in the Wellington hospital. I 
never want to see them again, whatever happens, 
though they were very kind to me out there. 

“ That’s a pretty good team you have there, Silas,” 
he went on ; “ look as if they could take these Fair- 
field County hills without losing their wind. Sup- 
pose you let them out once, and show us what they 
can do.” 

“ Ah, you’re in a hurry to see the folks ! ” Silas 
declared. “ An’ no wonder, Mr. Silburn. I’ll git 
you out to Hunt’n’ton jist as quick as ever the trip 
was made, if nothin’ don’t give ’way.” 

Kit had a nice little plan arranged to introduce his 
father as “Mr. John Doe, of New Zealand,” when 


342 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


they reached the gate; but it fell through most in- 
gloriously. The truth is there was very little said at 
first when they reached the house. Mrs. Silburn and 
Yieve had hold of the wanderer before he was out of 
the sleigh, and in the excitement his satchel would 
have been carried away if Silas had not come running 
in with it. 

There was not only the joy of seeing him sitting in 
his own chair again by the fire, but of seeing him 
almost as well as ever, only a little older and grayer. 
Kit had had no chance to write them from the steamer 
of his father’s steady improvement, so it was a fresh 
pleasure to find that his memory was fully restored, 
except that he never could quite realize that he had 
been months, instead of days, in the Wellington 
hospital. 

They wanted him all to themselves that day, but 
that was impossible. The news soon flew through 
Huntington that Mr. Silburn had returned, and the 
neighbors began to pour in at such a rate that Vieve 
and Kit had to fly around and start a fire in the 
parlor stove, to give their mother a chance to set 
her grandest dinner table in the sitting-room. And 
every visitor had so much to say about Kit that he 
began to wish himself a cabin boy on the North Cape 
again. 

“ I’ll have to look out for myself here,” Mr. Sil- 
burn laughed, “ or I’ll be of no account in my own 
house. Everything’s ‘ Kit,’ ‘ Kit,’ ‘Kit.’ Well, I 
must say there ain’t many boys — ” 


LOVE’S YOUNG DREAM IN BARBADOES. 343 

“Oh, look here, father!” Kit cried; “are you 
going to begin on that too ! Look at Vieve ; nobody 
stuck to you tighter than Yieve. You don’t know 
how she used to encourage us when we were inclined 
to give you up.” And he told for the first time how 
Yieve had sent him one of her two dollars when he 
went to New York, and how he had been robbed of 
the stamps. 

“ Genevieve, come here to your father ! ” Mr. Sil- 
burn said, in a tone of mock severity. And he put 
his arm around her to lift her to his knee as he used 
to do, but found that was a task that required both 
hands. Fathers are so slow to see it when their 
daughters grow into young women ; it takes the sons 
of other fathers to make that discovery. 

“ Why ! ” he exclaimed, “ you’re as heavy as a 
kedge anchor, and bigger than your mother. And 
you sent one of your dollars to Kit, did you ? Now 
if I was half a father, I’d have handfuls of gold to 
shower over you on coming back from the sea, 
wouldn’t I? And the fact is I haven’t a cent but 
a little money that Kit made me put in my clothes 
— the clothes that he bought me, too. He — ” 

“ Oh, Yieve has turned miser since you went 
away,” Kit interrupted, fearing that his father might 
go back to the old subject. “ She wouldn’t spend 
a cent for fear we might not have enough money to 
get you home. She wants a rich husband, too. She 
has her eye on a cardinal that I met over in — ” 

Of course Yieve would not let him finish the sen- 


344 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


tence ; and in the midst of the playful quarrel she 
was called to help her mother with dinner ; and if 
any one should ask just how the reunited family 
spent that first day, not one of them could give 
anything like an exact account. 

After a few days Vieve declared that the family 
reminded her of three kittens, so pleased with every- 
thing that they sat around the fire purring. 

“ You’d better enjoy it while you can,” her father 
answered. “ Kit will soon have to be going back to 
his ship ; and for my part, I’m not going to sit here 
the rest of my life doing nothing. You needn’t think 
it. It’s just the time for a man to go to sea again, 
after being shipwrecked ; lightning don’t strike twice 
in the same place, you know.” 

“ Oh, Christopher ! ” Mrs. Silburn exclaimed. “ You 
wouldn’t think of going to sea again, would you ? ” 

“ I’ve got to do something,” he answered, “ and 
navigation don’t go very well on shore. But no 
more long voyages, likely. Maybe you’ve forgotten 
what I told you before I went away about a firm 
in Bridgeport that wanted me to take charge of a 
schooner line between there and New York? You 
see my memory works all smooth now, don’t it ? 
Well, if they’re still of the same mind, I may do 
some business with them. You’re not going to lay 
me away on the shelf yet awhile, anyhow.” 

“ Oh, then I’d have a chance to go to New York 
with you some time ! ” Yieve cried. “ You know 
I’ve never been there yet.” 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM IN BARBADOES. 34 $ 

“ That’s just where I shall have to go to-morrow,” 
Kit announced. “ I see by the paper that the Trini- 
dad is due this afternoon, and it’s not fair to stay 
away too long. I’ll be back again for a few days, you 
know, but I must be on hand for the next voyage.” 

It was purely by accident that he mentioned it 
just as Yieve showed how anxious she was to see 
the metropolis ; but the coincidence set him to think- 
ing. Here he had been half over the world, and 
Yieve had never been further than Bridgeport. Why 
shouldn’t he give her a trip to New York? 

“ How would you like to go along with me, Yieve?” 
he asked. “ I’ll show you my ship, and bring you 
back in two or three days.” 

“ Oh, Kit ! ” his mother exclaimed ; “ that’s just \ 
like a boy. How can the child go to New York 
without any clothes fit to wear ?” 

“ Bother the clothes,” Kit retorted, still just like 
a boy. “ She’s not going to set the fashions, is she ? 
I’ll lend her one of my blue suits.” 

It was so quickly settled that Yieve was to go, 
that Mr. Silburn was led to exclaim : — 

“ There’s no parental discipline at all in this family, 
is there ? ” 

“Well, there’s none needed, that’s one thing,” 
Mrs. Silburn answered ; and she sat up half the night 
getting Yieve ready. She was relieved to find that 
they would not have to go to a hotel, for there 
would be any number of vacant staterooms on the 
Trinidad . 


346 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


That trip to New York with Vieve was one of the 
greatest pleasures that Kit had ever enjoyed, next to 
finding his father. Everything was so new to her. 
She had never even been in a railway train before. 
And Mr. Clark was so kind to her, and took her all 
over the ship, and she was so delighted with every- 
thing. And in the evening he had a talk with the 
purser in their office that must have been very satis- 
factory, for next morning he said to Vieve : — 

“ Vieve, do they have tailor shops for girls ? I 
mean places where a girl can buy things all ready to 
put on, the way a man can ?” 

“ Oh, do they!” Vieve answered. “ To think 
that anybody shouldn’t know that ! Why, dozens 
of them.” 

“Well,” he went on, “I heard a great piece of 
news last night, and feel like celebrating a little 
to-day. We’ll get the stewardess directly and go 
out and see whether you can find anything to fit 
you. You can buy the whole business, can you ? 
Hat, coat, dress, shoes, and all ? ” 

“ Yes, when you have money enough,” Vieve 
laughed. “But what is it, Kit? What is this 
great piece of news? Ah, now, Kit, you ought to 
tell me ; I always tell you everything.” 

“ Not till we get home, Miss Curiosity,” he an- 
swered. “ When we get home I’ll tell you all about 
it.” 

Kit wisely declined to go further than the door of 
any of the big bazaars that the stewardess led them 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM IN BARBADOES. 347 

to. But Vieve’s first experiment in “shopping” 
must have been successful, for when Kit took her 
over the Brooklyn Bridge toward evening to see 
Captain Griffith and the North Cape , her appearance 
was so changed that her mother would hardly have 
known her. 

And to tell the good news about his father to 
Captain Griffith was almost equal to telling it at 
home, the Captain took such an interest. He had 
to go over the whole story of his voyage to Melbourne 
and then across to Wellington, and describe his first 
meeting with his father, and everything that hap- 
pened afterwards. 

“Well, Miss Silburn,” the Captain said, when Kit 
concluded — “or I think I’ll have to call you Miss 
Vieve, — I’m almost one of the family, you know, 
and one of . the first things I did when I got hold 
of Christopher was to read a letter you wrote 
him — ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir, I hope you’ll call me Vieve,” Vieve 
interrupted ; “ I shouldn’t know who you meant if 
you called me Miss Silburn.” 

“Well, I was going to say,” the Captain went on, 
“that I took an interest in you all from the time 
Christopher read me those letters from home on the 
first evening; I knew him. And when I heard about 
the dollar’s worth of stamps you sent him, and the 
way he was robbed of them, I came very near hand- 
ing him a greenback to send in his letter to you. 
But I was afraid it might spoil him. Boys are very 


34 « 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


easily spoiled; sp cially cabin boys. I don’t suppose 
he’s ever told you about how 1 had to train him in, 
in the first voyage or two.” 

“ Don’t you believe it, Vieve ! ” Kit laughed ; “ the 
Captain wouldn’t hurt a cat.” 

“ I gave him plenty of work to do, at any rate,” 
the Captain went on. “ 1 don’t want to make him 
conceited by saying he did it well ; but he seems to 
have turned out pretty well, like most of my boys. 
The great point about your brother was that he made 
up his mind to do his work well, and push his way 
ahead. Boys who start with that idea generally 
succeed, even when they have no great brains to 
begin with.” 

“Ahem!” Kit interrupted. “Can’t we find some- 
thing more interesting to talk about than me ? Where 
do you go next time, Captain ? ” 

“ To Barbadoes again,” the Captain answered. 
“We went there last voyage. You fellows in the big 
mail steamers mustn’t think you are the only ones to 
go to the West Indies. And I saw a friend of yours 
there, too. Do you remember any one named Outer- 
bridge, in Barbadoes?” 

Kit began to blush so hard that the Captain 
immediately added : — 

“ Oh, not the young lady. It was her father that 
I saw. He wanted to be remembered to you, and 
hoped to see you next time you visited the island.” 

“Ah! ” Vieve exclaimed, “he never told us any- 
thing about a young lady in Barbadoes, Captain. 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM IN BARB A DOES. 


349 


You’re getting so you don’t tell me anything, any 
more, Kit. Do you know, Captain, he heard some 
great piece of news last night, and he won’t tell me 
what it was.” 

“No, I won’t tell even Captain Griffith what it 
was, not at present,” Kit retorted. “And he will 
say that I’m right not to tell the business affairs of 
the company I work for.” 

“ It would be very unlike you to do it, I’ll say 
that,” the Captain assented ; “ and very improper 
besides. But you are going right back to the Trini- 
dad , of course ? and I may expect to see you while 
we are lying at Barbadoes ? ” 

“ I’m off in her next Saturday, sir,” Kit answered. 
“ That’s the reason I have to start for home to-morrow 
morning, and can’t make you a longer visit. But my 
sister was anxious to come over and see Harry 
Leonard, and — ” 

“ Why, Kit! ” Yieve cried, with a blush that made 
her look prettier than ever ; “ I never mentioned his 
name, or thought of him.” 

“ Of course you both want to see Henry,” the 
Captain laughed ; and in answer to his bell Harry 
soon appeared, and Kit had to retell his latest advent- 
ures in brief. But it was growing late, and they 
could not prolong their stay, and they crossed the 
East River on a Fulton ferryboat to give Yieve a view 
of the big bridge by night. 

Such a trip was like delving into an Arabian Nights 
palace for the young Huntington girl, and for weeks 


350 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


afterward she could talk of little but the wonderful 
things she had seen. And from what Kit heard 
while he was home, he imagined that the most won- 
derful things of all, the most beautiful, most lovely 
and enchanting, were not the busy streets or tall 
buildings, not the big ships, the great bridge, or the 
crowds, but the fascinating things she saw in the big 
bazaars, which she described with more technical terms 
than he thought she had ever heard of. 

But Kit’s great news had to be told before they 
could let him go. He intended to tell it in the home 
circle, but he would have been more than human if 
he had not let Vieve tease him a little for it just 
after seeing how anxious she was. 

“ It is not to be mentioned outside of the family,” 
he said, “ because I mustn’t be telling office secrets ; 
but Mr. Clark told me I could tell it at home. You 
must know, then, that — ahem — ahem — ” 

“ Oh, Kit, do go on ! ” Vieve burst out. “ I’ll tell 
all about that Barbadoes girl if you don’t.” 

“ You can’t,” Kit retorted ; “ you don’t know any- 
thing about her. But to come back to business, the 
company is building a fine new steamer, larger and 
better than any of the others, to be called the Maida. 
She is under way now, and when she is finished, 
Captain Fraser is to command her, because he is the 
senior captain of the line ; and Mr. Clark is to be her 
purser, because he is the senior purser. That, as you 
can see, will leave the Trinidad without a purser; or 
'would, rather. But if the present arrangements are 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM IN BARBADOES. 


351 


carried out, the new purser of the Trinidad will 
be — ” 

“ Oh, Kit ! ” Mrs. Silburn cried. 

“ I see you’ve guessed it, mother,” he went on. 
“ His name is Kit Silburn. But I only said if 
present arrangements are carried out, mind you. 
There’s many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip. 
The company may change its mind, or — or lots of 
other things may happen meanwhile. A purser gets 
exactly fifty per cent more pay than an assistant 
purser, and that part I should be very well satisfied 
with. But the Trinidad would seem strange without 
Captain Fraser or Mr. Clark.” 

“ Lots of other things,” as Kit predicted, did happen 
in the ten or eleven months that passed before the new 
Maida was ready for sea. The Silburn residence, 
for one thing, grew from a little story and a half 
cottage into a pretty two-story house, one of the best 
in Huntington. The new line of schooners between 
Bridgeport and New York, of which Mr. Silburn was 
manager and one of the stockholders, proved a profit- 
able venture. Harry Leonard became a supercargo 
himself, and felt six inches taller from that minute. 
And it happened in the strangest way that the 
dinner-parties given at Sea View plantation, in Bar- 
badoes, always fell upon the days when the Trinidad 
.was in port. 

Kit did not hesitate to speak at home about 
Miss Blanche Outerbridge, and for a time Vieve was 
inclined to be jealous of “ that Barbadoes girl,” as 


352 


THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 


she insisted upon calling her. But after a while 
Mr. Outerbridge brought his family to America for 
a visit, and upon becoming well acquainted with her, 
she had to say that Barbadoes produced some very 
pretty and companionable young ladies. 

It was not till long after Kit became purser of the 
Trinidad , however, — not till the day came when 
there was neither need nor excuse for his spending 
any more of his earnings in Huntington, — that in 
one of his confidential talks with Yieve he told her 
how good the prospect was that she might in course 
of time be suitably provided with a sister-in-law. 



W. A. Wilde Co., Publishers. 


War of the Revolution Series. 

By Everett T. Tomlinson. 

r 'HREE COLONIAL BOYS. A Story of the Times 

of ’76. 368 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

It is a story of three boys who were drawn into the events of the times, is patriotic, 
exciting, clean, and healthful, and instructs without appearing to. The heroes are 
manly boys, and no objectionable language or character is introduced. The lessons of 
courage and patriotism especially will be appreciated in this day. — Boston Transcript. 

CT^HREE YOUNG CONTINENTALS. A Story of 

JL the American Revolution. 364 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

This story is historically true. It is the best kind of a story either for boys or girls, 
and is an attractive method of teaching history. — Journal 0/ Education , Boston. 

TT/A SLUNG TON’S YOUNG AIDS. A Story of the 

rr New Jersey Campaign, 1776-1777. 391pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

The book has enough history and description to give value to the story which ought 
to captivate enterprising boys. — Quarterly Book Review. 

The historical details of the story are taken from old records. These include 
accounts of the life on the prison ships and prison houses of New York, the raids of the 
pine robbers, the tempting of the Hessians, the end of Fagan and his band, etc. — 
Publisher' s IVeekly. 

Few boys’ stories of this class show so close a study of history combined with such 
genial story-telling power. — The Outlook. 

r wo YOUNG BATE LOTS. A Story of Burgoyne’s 

Invasion. 366 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

The crucial campaign in the American struggle for independence came in the sum- 
mer of 1777, when Gen. John Hurgoyne marched from Canada to cut the rebellious 
colonies asunder and join another British army whicli was to proceed up the valley of 
the Hudson. The American forces were brave, hard fighters, and they worried and 
harassed the British and finally defeated them. The history of this campaign is one 
of great interest and is well brought out in the part which the “ two young patriots’’ 
took in the events which led up to the surrender of General Burgoyne and his army. 

The set of four volumes in a box, $6.00. 


Orison Swett Marden. 
Front,” “ Architects of 


Fate,” 


Author of 

3 l 7 PP- 


etc. 


SUCCESS. By 

O “ Pushing to the 
Cloth, $1.25. 

It is doubtful whether any success books for the young have appeared in modern 
times which are so thoroughly packed from lid to lid with stimulating, uplifting, and in- 
spiring material as the self-help books written by Orison Swett Marden. There is not a 
dry paragraph nor a single line of useless moralizing in any of his books. 

To stimulate, inspire, and guide is the mission of his latest book, “Success,” and 
helpfulness is its keynote. Its object is to spur the perplexed youth to act the Columbus 
to his own undiscovered possibilities; to urge him not to wait for great opportunities, 
but to seize common occasions and make them great, for he cannot tell when fate may 
take his measure for a higher place. 


W. A. Wihie Co., Boston and Chicago. 


1 


W. A. IVilde 6° Co., Publishers. 


Brain and Brawn Series. 

By William Drysdale. 

r 'HE YOUNG REPORTER. A Story of Printing 

House Square. 300 pp. Cloth, $1. 50. 

I commend the book unreservedly. — Golden Ride. 

“ The Young Reporter” is a rattling book for boys. — New York Recorder. 

The best boys’ book I ever read. — Mr. Phillips , Cr itic for New York Times. 


r 'HE EAST MAIL. 

Cloth, $1.50. 


A Story of a Train Boy. 328 pp. 


“ The Fast Mail ” is one of the very best American books for boys brought out this 
season. Perhaps there could be no better confirmation of this assertion than the fact 
that the little sons of the present writer have greedily devoured the contents of the vol- 
ume, and are anxious to know how soon they are to get a sequel. — The Art A matenr , 
New York. 


Cj 'HE BEACH PATROL. A Story of the Life-Saving 

-L Service. 318 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


The style of narrative is excellent, the lesson inculcated of the best, and, above all, 
the boys and girls are real. — New York Times. 

A book of adventure and daring, which should delight as well as stimulate to higher 
ideals of life every boy who is so happy as to possess it. — Examiner. 

It is a strong book for boys and young men. — Buffalo Commercial. 


r HE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. 

Merchant Marine. 352 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


A Story of the 


Kit Silburn is a real “ Brain and Brawn ” boy, full of sense and grit and sound 
good qualities. Determined to make his way in life, and with no influential friends to 
give him a start, he does a deal of hard work between the evening when he first meets 
the stanch Captain Griffith, and the proud day when he becomes purser of a great 
ocean steamship. His sea adventures are mostly on shore; but whether he is cleaning 
the cabin of the North Cape , or landing cargo in Yucatan, or hurrying the spongers 
and fruitmen of Nassau, or exploring London, or sight seeing with a disguised prince 
in Marseilles, he is always the same busy, thoroughgoing, manly Kit. Whether or not 
he has a father alive is a question of deep interest throughout the story ; but that he 
has a loving and loyal sister is plain from the start. 


The set of four volumes in a box, $6.00. 


CtERAPH , THE LITTLE VIOLINISTE. 

O C. V. Jamieson. 300 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


By Mrs. 


The scene of the story is the French quarter of New Orleans, and charming bits of 
local color add to its attractiveness. — The Boston Journal. 

Perhaps the most charming story she has ever written is that which describes Seraph, 
the little violiniste. — Transcript , Boston. 


W. A. IVilde 6° Cc., Boston and Chicago. 


2 


W. A. Wilde 6° Co., Publishers. 


Travel= Ad venture Series. 


/ N WILD AFRICA. Adventures of Two Boys in the 

Sahara Desert, etc. By Thos. W. Knox. 325 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

A story of absorbing interest. — Boston Journal. 

Our young people will pronounce it unusually good. — A Ibany A rgus. 

Col. Knox has struck a popular note in his latest volume. — Springfield Republican. 

r HE LAND OF THE KANGAROO. By Thos. 

W. Knox. Adventures of Two Boys in the Great Island Con- 
tinent. 318 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

His descriptions of the natural history and botany of the country are very interest- 
ing. — Detroit Free Press. 

The actual truthfulness of the book needs no gloss to add to its absorbing interest. — 
The Book Buyer, New York. 



VER THE ANDES ; or , Our Boys in New South 
America. By Hezekiah Butterworth. 368 pp. Cloth, 


50- 

No writer of the present century has done more and better service than Hezekiah 
Butterworth in the production of helpful literature for the young. In this volume he 
writes, in his own fascinating way, of a country too little known by American readers. — 
Christian IVork. 

Mr. Butterworth is careful of his historic facts, and then he charmingly interweaves 
his quaint stories, legends, and patriotic adventures as few writers can. — Chicago Inter- 
Ocean. 

The subject is an inspiring one, and Mr. Butterworth has done full justice to the 
high ideals which have inspired the men of South America. — Religious Telescope. 



OST IN NICARAGUA ; or, The Lands of the Great 

Canal. By Hezekiah Butterworth. 295 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


The book pictures the wonderful land of Nicaragua and continues the story of the 
travelers whose adventures in South America are related in “ Over the Andes.” In this 
companion book to “ Over the Andes,” one of the boy travelers who goes into the 
Nicaraguan forests in search of a quetzal, or the royal bird of the Aztecs, falls into an 
ancient idol cave, and is rescued in a remarkable way by an old Mosquito Indian. The 
narrative is told in such a way as to give the ancient legends of Guatemala, the story of 
the chieftain, Nicaragua, the history of the Central American Republics, and the natural 
history of the wonderlands of the ocelot, the conger, parrots, and monkeys. 

Since the voyage of the Oregon, of 13,000 miles to reach Key West the American 
people have seen what would be the value of the Nicaragua Canal. The book gives the 
history of the projects for the canal, and facts about Central America, and a part of it 
was written in Costa Rica. It enters a new field. 

The set of four volumes in a box, $6.00. 



UARTERDECK 
Elliott Seawell. 


AND 
272 pp. 


FOKSLE. 

Cloth, $1.25. 


By Molly 


Miss Seawell has done a notable work for the young people of our country in her 
excellent stories of naval exploits. They are of the kind that causes the reader, no 
matter whether young or old, to thrill with pride and patriotism at the deeds of daring 
of the heroes of our navy. 


W. A. Wilde < 5 r Co., Boston and Chicago. 


3 


W. A. Wilde &* Co , Publishers. 


Fighting for the Flag Series. 

By Chas. Ledyard Norton. 


J 


*ACK BENS ON ’S LOG ; or, Afloat with the Flag in 

* 6 i. 281pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


An unusually interesting historical story, and one that will arouse the loyal impulses 
of every American boy and girl. The story is distinctly superior to anything ever 
attempted along this line before. — The Independent. 

A story that will arouse the loyal impulses of every American boy and girl. — The 
Press. 


A 


MEDAL OE HONOR MAN; or. 

Blockade Runners. 280 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


Cruising Among 


A bright, breezv sequel to “ Jack Benson’s Log.” The book has unusual literary 
excellence. — The Book Buyer, Ne 7 V York. 

A stirring story for boys. — The Journal, Indianapolis. 


jyjIDSHIPMAN JACK. 290 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 

Jack is a delightful hero, and the author has made his experiences and ad- 
ventures seem very real. — Congregationalist. 

It is true historically and full of exciting war scenes and adventures. — Outlook. 

A stirring story of naval service in the Confederate waters during the late war. — 
Presbyterian. 

The set of three volumes in a box, $3.75. 



By Amy E. Blanchard. 


33 i PP- 


“ A Girl of ’76” lays its scene in and around Boston where the principal events of 
the early period of the Revolution were enacted. Elizabeth Hall, the heroine, is the 
daughter of a patriot who is active in the defense of his country. The story opens with 
a scene in Charlestown, where Elizabeth Hall and her parents live. The emptying of 
the tea in Boston Harbor is the means of giving the little girl her first strong impression 
as to the seriousness of her father’s opinions, and causes a quarrel between herself and 
her schoolmate and playfellow, Amos Dwight. 



SOLD LEE OF THE LEGLON. 

yard Norton. 300 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


By Chas. Led- 


Two boys, a Carolinian and a Virginian, born a few years apart during the last half 
of the eighteenth century, afford the groundwork for the incidents of this tale. 

The younger of the two was William Henry Harrison, sometime President of the 
United States, and the elder, his companion and faithful attendant through life, was 
Carolinus Bassett, Sergeant of the old First Infantry, and in an irregular sort of a way 
Captain of Virginian Horse. He it is who tells the story a few r years after President 
Harrison’s death, his granddaughter acting as critic and amanuensis. 

The story has to do with the early days of the Republic, when the great, wild, un- 
known West was beset by dangers on every hand, and the Government at Washington 
was at its wits’ end to provide ways and means to meet the perplexing problems of 
national existence. 


W. A. Wilde <Sp Co., Bosion and Chicago. 


4 


W. A. IVihie Co., Publishers. 


r 'HE ORCUTT GIRLS ; or, One Term at the Academy. 

By Charlotte M. Vaile. 316 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

A well-told story of school life which will interest its readers deeply, and hold 
before them a high standard of living. The heroines are charming girls and their 
adventures are described in an entertaining way. — Pilgrim Teacher. 

Mrs. Vaile gives us a story here which will become famous as a description of a 
phase of New England educational history which has now become a thing of the past, 
with an exception here and there. — Boston Transcript. 



UE ORCUTT. A Sequel to “The Orcutt Girls.” 

Charlotte M. Vaile. 330 pp. - Cloth, #1.50. 


By 


It is a charming story from beginning to end and is written in that easy flowing 
style which characterizes the best stories of our best writers. — Christian JVork. 

It is wholly a piece of good fortune for young folks that brings this book to market 
in such ample season for the selection of holiday gifts. — Denver Republican. 

The story teaches a good moral without any preaching, in fact it is as good in a way 
as Miss Alcott’s books, which is high but deserved praise. — Chronicle. 



HE M. M. C. A Story of the Great Rockies. 

Charlotte M. Vaile. 232 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


By 


The pluck of the little school teacher, struggling against adverse circumstances, to 
hold for her friend the promising claim, which he has secured after years of misfortune 
in other ventures, is well brought out. The almost resistless bad luck which has made 
“Old Hopefull’s ” nickname a hollow mockery still followed him when a fortune w»as 
almost within his grasp. The little school teacher was, however, a new element in “ Old 
Hopefull’s ” experience, and the result, as the story shows, was most satisfactory. 


CT-HE ROMANCE OE DISCOVERY; or, a Thousand 
-L Years of Exploration, etc. By William Elliot Griffis. 
305 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

It is a book of profit and interest involving a variety of correlated instances and 
influences which impart the flavor of the unexpected. — Philadelphia Presbyterian. 

An intensely interesting narrative following well-authenticated history. — Telescope. 
Hoys will read it for the romance in it and be delighted, and when they get through, 
behold ! they have read a history of America. — Aivakener. 


r 'HE ROMANCE OE AMERICAN COLONIZA- 
TION; or, How the Foundations of Our Country Were Laid. 
By William Elliot Griffis. 295 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

To this continent, across a great ocean, came tw'o distinct streams of humanity 
and two rival civilizations, — the one Latin, led and typified by the Spanish, with 
Portugese and French also, and the other Germanic, or Anglo-Saxon, led and typified 
by the English and reinforced by Dutch, German, and British people. 



SON OE THE RE VOL UTION. An Historical 
Novel of the Days of Aaron Burr. By Elb ridge S. Brooks. 
301 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


The story of Tom Edwards, adventurer, as it is connected with Aaron Burr, is 
in every way faithful to the facts of history. As the story progresses the reader will 
wonder where the line between fact and fiction is to be drawn. Among the characters 
that figure in it are President Jefferson, Gen Andrew Jackson, General Wilkinson, 
and many other prominent government and army officials. 


W. A. Wilde 6° Co., Boston and Chicago. 


5 


W. A. Wilde &> Co., Publishers. 


M 


ALVERN, A NEIGHBORHOOD STORY. 

Ellen Douglas Deland. 341 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


By 


Her descriptions of boys and girls are so true, and her knowledge of their ways is 
so accurate, that one must feel an admiration for her complete mastery of her chosen 
field. — The A rgus, A Ibany. 

Miss Deland was accorded a place with Louisa M. Alcott and Nora Perry as a 
successful writer of books for girls. We think this praise none too high. — The Post. 



SUCCESSFUL VENTURE. 

Deland. 340 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


By Ellen Douglas 


One of the many successful books that have come from her pen, which is certainly 
the very best. — Boston Herald. 

It is a good piece of work and its blending of good sense and entertainment will be 
appreciated. — C o ngrega t io n a list. 


K 


ATRINA. 

Cloth, $1.50. 


By Ellen Douglas Deland. 


340 pp. 


“ Katrina ” is the story of a girl who was brought up by an aunt in a remote village 
of Vermont. Her life is somewhat lonely until a family from New York come there to 
board during the summer. Katrina’s aunt, who is a reserved woman, has told her little 
of her antecedents, and she supposes that she has no other relatives. Her New York 
friends grow very fond of her and finally persuade her to visit them during the winter. 
There new pleasures and new temptations present themselves, and Katrina’s character 
develops through them to new strength. 



BOVE THE RANGE. 

332 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


By Theodora R. Jenness. 


The quaintness of the characters described will be sure to make the story very pop- 
ular. — Book News, Philadelphia. 

A book of much interest and novelty. — The Book Buyer, New York. 


DIG CYPRESS. 

$ 1. 00 . 


By Kirk Munroe. 


164 pp. Cloth, 


If there is a man who understands writing a story for boys better than another, it is 
Kirk Munroe. — Springfield Republican. 

A capital writer of boys’ stories is Mr. Kirk Munroe. — Outlook. 


F 


OREMAN JENNIE. By Amos R. Wells. A Young 

Woman of Business. 268 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


It is a delightful story. — The Advance, Chicago. 

It is full of action. — The Standard, Chicago. 

A story of decided merit. — The Epworth Herald , Chicago. 



YS TER LOUS VOYAGE 

By Lieut. H. P. Whitmarsh. 


OE THE DAPHNE. 

305 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


One of the best collections of short stories for boys and girls that has been pub- 
lished in recent years. Such writers as Hezekiah Butterworth, Wm. O. Stoddard, and 
Jane G. Austin have contributed characteristic stories which add greatly to the general 
interest of the book. 


W. A. Wilde Co., Boston and Chicago. 


6 


W. A. Wilde C 3 Co., Publishers. 


P 


PHILIP LEICESTER. 

pp. Cloth, 51.25. 


By Jessie E. Wright. 264 


The book ought to make any reader thankful for a good home, and thoughtful for 
the homeless and neglected. — Golden Rule. 

The story is intensely interesting. — Christian Inquirer. 



AP’N THISTLETOP. 

Cloth, $1.25. 


By Sophie Swett. 


282 pp. 


Sophie Swett knows how to please young folks as well as old; for both she writes 
simple, unaffected, cheerful stories with a judicious mingling of humor and plot. Such 
a story is “ Cap’n Thistletop.” — The Outlook. 


L 


ABY BETTY’S TWINS. 

11 7 pp. With 12 illustrations. 


By E. M. Waternvorth. 

75 cents. 


The story of a little boy and girl who did not know the meaning of the word 
“ obedience.’’ They learned the lesson, however, after some trying experiences. 


r 'HE MOONSTONE RING. By Jennie Chappell. 
1 18 pp. With 6 illustrations. 75 cents. 


A home story with the true ring to it. The happenings of the story are somewhat 
out of the usual run of events. 


CJ^IIE BEACON LIGHT SERIES. Edited by Nat- 
-Z alie L. Rice. 5 vols. Fully Illustrated. The Set, 52.50. 

The stories contained in this set of books are all by well-known writers, carefully 
selected and edited, and they cannot, therefore, fail to be both helpful and instructive. 


r 'HE ALLAN BOOKS. Edited by 

Wheelock. 10 vols. Over 400 illustrations, 
box, 52.50. 


Miss Lucy 

The set in a 


One of the best and most attractive sets of books for little folks ever published. 
They are full of bright and pleasing illustrations and charming little stories just adapted 
to young children. 


CT^HE MARJORIE BOOKS. Edited by Miss Lucy 

Jl Wheelock. 6 vols. Over 200 illustrations. The set, 51-50. 

A very attractive set of books for the little folks, full of pictures and good stories. 


D 


OT’S LIBRARY. Edited by Miss Lucy Wheelock. 

10 vols. Over 400 illustrations. The set, $2.50. 


In every way a most valuable set of books for the little people. Miss Wheelock 
possesses rare skill in interesting and entertaining the little ones. 


W. A. Wilde & Co ., Boston and Chicago. 


7 





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